


Destinies

by Angelwarrior1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Harry Potter AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Slash, Smith/Wesson AU, Supernatural AU: Croatoan/End'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelwarrior1/pseuds/Angelwarrior1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Dean Winchester is running from destiny. Harry Potter has accepted his. This somehow results in the pair ending up in an unlikely reality. Sam is there too. Slash. DW/HP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: I know, I know. I should devote all of my time to Secunda Fortuna and how dare I work on something else right? Well, considering I have been working on Secunda Fortuna exclusively for two years straight, I was kind of feeling a little burnt out and wanted something fresh to work on. Somehow, I ended up getting sucked into Supernatural/HP crossovers, and after swearing I wasn’t going to get sucked into the television series… I may have gotten sucked into the show as well. Anyhow, I noticed a few clichés for this wonderful crossing of worlds, such as Harry going to Stanford and befriending Sam, Harry becoming a hunter and meeting Bobby before the Winchester brothers, etc. Surely there has to be some other way for them to meet though, right? So then my mind went into overdrive and this spawned, and what I expected to be a one-shot, ended up expanding a bit. So, here’s a taste, and you readers just go ahead and tell me if you want more, deal? This takes place during Season 4 of Supernatural, episode 4x17 "It's A Terrible Life". If you haven't seen that episode yet and don't want it spoiled then don't read this, I used the transcript from the show for a some of this. As for HP, basically up until Harry died and is stuck in limbo, though I will be bending some things as I see fit, so not completely canon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Dean Winchester is running from destiny. Harry Potter has accepted his. This somehow results in the pair ending up in an unlikely reality. Sam is there too.
> 
> Author’s Note: I know, I know. I should devote all of my time to Secunda Fortuna and how dare I work on something else right? Well, considering I have been working on Secunda Fortuna exclusively for two years straight, I was kind of feeling a little burnt out and wanted something fresh to work on. Somehow, I ended up getting sucked into Supernatural/HP crossovers, and after swearing I wasn’t going to get sucked into the television series… I may have gotten sucked into the show as well. Anyhow, I noticed a few clichés for this wonderful crossing of worlds, such as Harry going to Stanford and befriending Sam, Harry becoming a hunter and meeting Bobby before the Winchester brothers, etc. Surely there has to be some other way for them to meet though, right? So then my mind went into overdrive and this spawned, and what I expected to be a one-shot, ended up expanding a bit. So, here’s a taste, and you readers just go ahead and tell me if you want more, deal? This takes during Season 4 of Supernatural, episode 4x17 "It's A Terrible Life". If you haven't seen that episode yet and don't want it spoiled then don't read this, I used the transcript from the show for a some of this. As for HP, basically up until Harry died and is stuck in limbo, though I will be bending some things as I see fit, so not completely canon.

Prologue:

"You mean I have a choice?" Harry looked to Dumbledore in surprise.

"You've always had a choice, Harry."

Green eyes got lost in thought. He could return and finish things with Voldemort, or he could move on. Returning meant finishing the fight that'd been building ever since he was a child, getting closure. It also meant dealing with the fame, all the fans who wanted a piece of him, and all of his enemies who wanted a chance to kill him. There wouldn't be any peace if he went back.

Moving on, though, he'd get to be with his family. He'd get to rest and be done with all of this mess. It wouldn't matter that he hadn't killed Voldemort, because the crazy Dark Lord wouldn't be his problem anymore.

"I've decided... I'd like to move on," Harry said tentatively, as he looked up through his lashes at Dumbledore.

"I see. You understand this choice is final, you cannot change your decision." Dumbledore gazed into Harry's eyes with a searching look.

"I know. I'm just- I'm tired, Albus. So tired. I want this. Let someone else finish this fight. Voldemort is mortal now, Ron and Hermione know this. I can't be the one to always clean up everyone else's mess, hold their hands. They'll be fine. I just really feel that it's best if I move on. The life I would have in the wizarding world after Voldemort's death would be under constant scrutiny. It's bad now, but how is it suddenly going to be when I'm The-Man-Who-Defeated-Voldemort, instead of just The-Boy-Who-Lived? I'd rather not be around to find out." Harry met Dumbledore's gaze solidly and didn't waver from his stance.

This was right, he could feel it and his instincts had never led him astray.

"Very well. If you feel this is the best course of action, then I will not try to change your mind." Dumbledore gave Harry an understanding smile.

Harry knew Dumbledore understood what too many expectations could do to a person. They stood in silence for a few moments, until the sound of a distant whistle could be heard. Harry looked to the tracks and waited until a beautiful silver train finally came to a stop at the platform.

"So, this will take me to my family?" Harry questioned as Dumbledore led him with one hand on his shoulder over to the train.

"It will take you to where you belong."

"Wait, where I belong?" Why didn't he like the sound of that?

"On to the next great adventure, my boy!" Dumbledore pushed him towards the open doors of the train.

"What about you?" Harry turned to look back at Dumbledore after receiving his ticket.

"Ah, but I'm already on my next great adventure, and what a grand adventure it has been so far. I trust yours will be even more extraordinary."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked as he looked down at his odd ticket for the train.

"Sir?" Harry turned and was stunned to see Dumbledore was no longer with him.

"If you're done with your conversation, sir, I think it best we get going, eh?"

All he could do was nod as he was shuffled the rest of the way onto the train and led to the first available seat. Considering he was the only passenger, he had many choices as far as seating went. He'd barely taken his seat when the train suddenly lurched and began moving forward. Harry's eyes widened when he looked out the window and saw nothing but blurring images pass. How fast were they going?

"Excuse me, sir, but where are we going?" Harry found he had to raise his voice as the sound of wind whipping suddenly spiked throughout the train.

"To where you belong, of course!" Harry huffed in annoyance at the vague answer.

Vague answers were never good, especially not for him. Harry gave up on trying to gain anymore answers and rested his head against the glass. He wasn't sure how, but the next thing Harry Potter knew, he was drifting off to sleep.

The sound of whipping wind drowning out everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently some people can't read and I've gotten A BUNCH of reviews asking why Dean and Sam aren't hunters, why Harry's suddenly in a world where Dean has fake memories of him, etc. I'll only write this out once more. Watch episode 4x17, "It's A Terrible Life". Seriously, if you still don't get that concept and send reviews asking stupid questions all I'll do is get a good laugh out of it. I'll also occasionally facepalm.
> 
> -Angelwarrior1


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

  
The blaring sound of an alarm clock pierced his ears. He felt his body jerk in shock. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He was laying down on a soft bed. Shouldn't he be somewhere else? A flash of soggy wet earth and shouts of screams, explosions, pain, and death went by his mind's eye. Something was wrong, he could feel it. 

Oddly enough, it wasn't just his own body he felt. He could feel weight wrapped around his waist. Since Harry Potter was no coward, he dared to open his eyes and find out what the hell the weight was. Instead of the scream that tried to run racing out into the nicely decorated room, a strangled whimper was the only sound of distress Harry gave.

The weight was an arm, a well muscled arm. That arm was connected to a man, a well muscl- uh- well a man. Harry pried his eyes away from the gorgeous man he was currently in bed with, and what the hell?! He was in bed with a gorgeous man! This kind of luck never happened to him, not without a truck load of bad to go with it!

Harry was freaking out, and not because of waking up wrapped in the arms of a man. No, he'd discovered his preference for males when he was fourteen, due to Cedric Diggory looking like- well Cedric Diggory. So waking up to a man who was definitely the type he would go for wasn't the problem. The problem was the whole waking up to a gorgeous man thing, it wasn't like Harry was a prize catch himself. Plus, there was the lack of memories on how he'd gotten into bed with the guy in the first place too.

Let it not be said that Harry Potter didn't have his priorities straight. Ron would be proud, and oh Merlin, Ron! Harry wasn't sure why he felt so sad at the thought of his red haired friend, but he felt it had something to do with why he was here. 

The blaring of the alarm came back full force, like he was hearing it for the first time, instead of the drowned out muffled beast it'd been while he was having his restrained panic attack. Harry stopped breathing when the arm around his waist moved lazily and hit the alarm clock's button to silence the annoying device.

The intake of breath through nostrils and a throaty hum reached his ears, and Harry kept himself still as a nose suddenly buried itself into his neck. 

"Mm, morning," A raspy low voice grumbled next to his ear, and holy hell was this man's voice incredible!

"Morning," Harry squeaked.

A chuckle that sounded like it was being run over sandpaper ruffled the hair next to his ear, and lips were suddenly kissing at his neck. Harry willed himself not to respond as this guy who was basically Harry's wet-dream-come-to-life attacked his neck for the next few minutes. He managed to hold in the sigh of relief, and disappointment, as the man finally pulled away and ended his torture.

"I'll probably be working late tonight, so if you could just leave some leftovers for me that'd be great."

"Uh, sure." Harry had yet to look the man in the face, but the man certainly didn't have a problem when his hand gently turned Harry's face towards his.

"Hey, you alright?" His eyes met Harry's for the first time and it felt so odd.

It was like he knew those eyes. They made him feel loved, and secure, safe. They felt like home. As a matter of fact, before Harry'd had his freak out upon waking, he'd felt the same way whilst wrapped up in his arms as well. He shouldn't be feeling such things, though, he didn't even know this man.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry held the man's searching gaze as he replied.

His answer was apparently the wrong one, as the man's lips thinned and his eyes narrowed shrewdly.

"You had nightmares again, didn't you? Of those bastard's house?"

Well, he supposed that was true, as the last thing he remembered before waking up here was dying. If that wasn't a nightmare, then what was?

"Yes." Harry admitted quietly.

"It wasn't the cupboard one again, was it?" The man asked in a soft, gruff voice as he ran a soothing hand up Harry's side.

"No, it was a different one. Uh, you should get going, you'll be late for work." Harry had no idea if that was true, but anything to stall this guy's questions.

"Okay, but I expect you to tell me about this later. You know what the therapist said about you holding all this stuff in." The man gave him a look that said Harry certainly hadn't fooled him, and how long had this guy known him to know that?!

"Alright." Harry moved to get out of bed, and the man finally let him go.

He busied himself with stretching as he waited for his bed partner to go to the bathroom and show him where the hell it was. The odd look he got from the guy made him stop his impromptu stretching. Instead, he followed his bed partner to the bathroom. He really needed to find out the guy's name, as it was awkward referring to this man as, "The Man", in his head.

So lost in his thoughts, was he, that Harry hadn't even noticed what the man was doing until he heard the sound of water hitting water. He glanced up and nearly shrieked in embarrassment, as his partner stood there relieving his bladder with his head thrown back and a look of bliss on his face. Harry spun around and practically raced away.

"Uh! I'll go make us some breakfast! You just get ready for work!" Harry missed the look of complete bewilderment on the man's handsome face, as he fled the area.

Working on autopilot, Harry began putting together a quick breakfast of... well he was going to do eggs and toast, but apparently that wasn't happening. The refrigerator was stocked with the kind of food only a health nut would eat.

Eventually, he found what he first thought to be a small carton of milk. He was wrong. It was a carton of egg whites.

Harry just stared at the carton in shock. They had eggs without the yolk for sale? In a container? He suddenly felt like how Arthur Weasley must've felt when being taught about a Muggle item for the first time. It wasn't a nice feeling, and it made him despise the Dursley's just a little more for keeping him locked away from the outside world for the majority of his life.

Finally pulling himself away from his morbid thoughts, he began to put together the best breakfast he could. While cooking, he tried to figure out what his next steps would be. He needed to find out just where he was, the date, who he was in this familiar, yet different world. He so needed to find out who that man was.

Finishing up, he looked through the cabinets for some kind of tea he could drink. Finding a box of Earl Grey, he set the kettle to boil water, then took a seat on a stool. From what he'd seen, the place they were staying in was a flat. A very modern one, from the look of things.

Arms wrapping around his shoulders made Harry jump and turn.

"Hey, easy! Geez, are you jumpy today. Look, I gotta run, but we will be talking about this later tonight."

"Don't forget your breakfast," Harry mumbled quietly.

"You made breakfast? Why? You know I pack my own breakfast and lunch the night before. Besides, you know how I feel about you trying to cook all the time." Now the man was openly giving him that odd look again, like Harry had just grown an extra body part or something.

"I'm sorry, guess I just wanted something to do. It's ok, you don't have to eat it." Harry felt silly and kept his eyes averted to his lap.

"Hey." That same gentle, yet gruff tone that made him feel very small and fragile grabbed his attention.

"You know I love it when you cook for me. I'll just take it with me and eat it at work, okay?" He gave Harry a little chuff under the chin with his curled index finger and smiled at him.

"Alright." Harry gave a tentative smile.

Harry walked the man to the door to see him off and was surprised yet again when the man turned and looked like he was waiting for something.

"So I haven't gotten my morning kiss yet. Come on, knock me a 'lil kiss right here." The man had a nonchalant look on his face as he pointed at one of his cheeks.

Harry could feel the blood rush to his face as he leaned up on the tips of his toes to grant the man his request. The squeak that left his throat, as he was quickly wrapped in strong arms and kissed breathless, was one he would deny till the end of his days.

The kiss was fast and it was rough. The lips were very soft, however, and the tongue that was obviously used to gaining access licked its way into his. He felt the moan that managed to bubble up and into the other man's mouth. An answering groan rumbled into him.

Just as quickly as it'd started, it stopped. When Harry registered anything again, it was his hands clutching tightly to the lapels of the man's business suit. The look on the man's face said he knew exactly how Harry would react to his kisses, which annoyed him greatly. He didn't even know how much that kiss would affect him, and yet this man seemed to know a lot about Harry. The man uncurled Harry's hands from his suit coat and gave him one more kiss on the forehead, before turning and leaving.

As soon as he was certain the man was gone, Harry burst into action. He ran into what looked like an office, likely the man's, and began looking through papers to find out any information he could. Apparently the man's name was Dean Smith, which he found himself liking, though the Smith part seemed a bit too plain for such an attention grabbing man. He wasn't able to find out what his name was, nor anything about where he was. 

Figuring the television was his best option, he went into the living room and turned it on. Finding a news station, he listened for a few minutes, then promptly fell onto the couch and stared into nothing.

It was 2009. The final battle of Hogwarts had taken place on May 2, 1998. He'd been seventeen when he died, and now he was what? Twenty-nine?! Did it count when one traveled into another year?! He wasn't sure. Harry darted off the couch and into the bathroom. The sight that greeted him shocked Harry so badly, he stumbled backwards and hit the wall behind him. Whenever he'd looked into the mirror back home, all he would see was the bags under his eyes, the fatigue haunting every line in his face. He'd looked half-dead to anyone really paying attention, and there weren't many who'd done that.

This person staring back at him, with the stunned wide green eyes, and slack mouth. This seemed like an entirely different person. The face appeared young and fresh, the cheeks not so hollow from lack of eating. There were no bags under his eyes. He looked good. Healthy. He touched his long, wild waves of black hair that felt more like silk. It reached down to the bottoms of his shoulder blades. It still looked a little wild, but not sticking up all over like it did whenever it was short. He pushed his bangs back, and was shocked to see that the lightening bolt scar was still there! 

For all intents and purposes, it would seem he'd jumped into another body, but he still had the scar? Harry looked for all the other scars on his body and was stunned to see that those scars were still there as well. What did it mean? He thought he'd taken over another Harry's body, but maybe not? Maybe whatever had brought him to this different world and time changed his body just enough to avoid looking suspicious. After all, when he died his body certainly wasn't in very good condition. It seemed perfectly logical that magic would help solve that problem. Deciding it was time to shower, he pulled off the clothes he'd been sleeping in and turned the shower on.

After he was finished and dressed, Harry figured it was time to see if he could still use his magic. It was obvious he didn't have his wand, but he was trained a bit in wandless. He was feeling very grateful for all the training he'd received over the years for his showdown with Voldemort, all things considered. Instead of having a nervous breakdown, like he felt he was damn well entitled to at this point, he was thinking things over logically and keeping his cool. Hermione would be so proud.

Seating himself at the kitchen table, Harry quickly began testing himself.

000000000000

The ringing of a phone broke Harry from the remarkable progress he'd made in testing his magic. It would seem that he was able to perform perfectly fine without his wand. He wasn't even tired like he usually had been whenever he would perform the simplest of spells wandlessly.

Getting up, Harry did a mad search for the phone as it kept ringing.

"Hello?" Harry was breathless by the time he'd located it.

"Harry? You okay? You sound out of breath." The man- Dean- sounded worried, which was apparently his default mode when it came to Harry.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just had to run for the phone. What's up?"

"Just wanted to let you know that I'll be staying later than I intended. Got some more work to do before I can call it a night."

"Okay. Uh, do you still want me to save you some dinner then?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"Alright, anything in particular you feel like eating?" Harry hoped Dean would tell him, because he seriously had no idea what to make for the guy.

"Anything you decide to make is good. I'll see 'ya later."

"Right." Harry ended the call as Dean did the same.

So, dinner. What the hell did an obvious health nut find acceptable to eat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews everyone! I hope you enjoy this story.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Noise woke him immediately, and he rose cautiously. Hearing the sound of voices, Harry crept to the bedroom door and opened it quietly. Recognizing the voice of Dean, Harry walked out into the living room as silently as possible and listened.

"-How the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?" A voice Harry didn't know asked.

"Crazy, right? And nice job kicking that door too. That was very Jet Li. What are you, like a black belt or something?"

The guy had kicked a door in? Why the hell would he need to? And what was that about a ghost being scared of wrenches?

"No. I have no clue how I did that. It's like... we've done this before."

"What do you mean before? Like Shirley MacLaine before?"

"No. I-I just can't shake this feeling like I don't belong here. You know? Like I should do something more than sit in a cubicle."

"I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that same way." Dean sounded a tad amused, and Harry felt his own lips trying to smile just a bit.

"No. Well, look, it's more than that. Like, I don't like my job. I don't like this town. I don't even like my own last name. I don't know how else to explain it, except that... it feels..."

"Wrong." Harry's voice seemed to bubble up and away from his throat without his consent.

Two heads whipped around to stare at him in shock.

"Harry, baby, I thought you were sleeping." Dean came over and gave Harry a quick peck on his forehead.

"I'm a very light sleeper."

"Since when? I mean, I know you're not a heavy sleeper, but a light one?" Dean was giving that look Harry was coming to know as his disbelieving one.

"Since always. Who is that? And what were you saying about things being wrong?" Harry looked to the extremely tall man, who made Harry feel like an ant in comparison.

"I'm Sam, Sam Wesson, and you are?" 

"This is my fiancé, Harry Evans." Harry's head whipped around so fast, he was surprised it didn't fly off.

"What?" He couldn't help but whisper in his shock.

"Harry, you alright? You don't look so good."

"What did you mean about things being wrong?" Harry shook his head to get his thoughts back in order.

If this guy knew something, then he needed to follow this lead like no one's business.

"Hey, maybe you should take a seat or something. You're looking a little pale."

"Just tell me what you meant."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I don't know how the bloody hell I got here!!" Harry bellowed, his rage at the situation finally spilling out.

"What? Harry, what do you mean you don't know how you got here?" Dean whispered in shock.

"My name is Harry James Potter, and the last thing I remember is dying in battle on May 2, 1998."

"Dying?" Harry turned to look at Dean as he choked out that question like it'd physically hurt him.

"I died and went to this bright white place, it looked like the train station I used for traveling to my boarding school. I was given a choice, I could either return and finish the fight I'd just died in, or move on. I thought moving on meant being with my parents and godfather, but next thing I know I'm waking up in a strange bed with a man I've never seen before."

"So you're in the wrong place too. You actually remember this, or was it through dreams that you know this?" Sam asked excitedly.

Dean didn't say anything, he just looked, well devastated.

"No, I actually remember. No dreams. I was there and now I'm here. "

"So, we've got you just appearing here out who knows where, me having weird dreams about killing monsters and ghosts, and something weird going on at the building Dean and I work at. We should probably try to figure out what's killing people at our job first. So, what do we do now?" Sam claps his hands together and looks to Dean and Harry for a clue.

"We do what I do best, Sammy. Research." Harry jerked in surprise at that response, and looked over at Dean.

Apparently he'd pulled himself together after that little bombshell Harry'd dropped.

"Okay. Did you just call me Sammy?" Harry found himself wanting to laugh at the twisted up face Sam was making.

It looked like he'd bitten into something sour.

"Did I?"

"I think you did. Yeah. Don't." Harry grinned at the interaction between the two.

"Sorry." Dean didn't really appear to be sorry, though.

Dean sat at his laptop at one corner desk and Sam used another at a table in Dean's office. Harry just tried not to intrude too much. Dean hadn't even looked at him since Harry's confession. Harry knew he shouldn't, but he felt oddly hurt by the shunning. It wasn't like he'd asked to just drop in and take Harry Evans' place, or whatever it was that had actually happened. He supposed it was best this way.

He would just give Dean his space for the time being.

"Oh, jackpot." Harry was pulled from his musings as Dean uttered those words.

"What you got?" Sam got up from his laptop and moved to watch Dean's over his shoulder.

Harry moved next to Sam and watched as well.

"I just found the best site ever. Real, actual ghost hunters. These guys are genius. Check it out."

"Instructional videos. Okay." Sam was peering at the screen with more than just skepticism on his face.

Harry found himself a bit underwhelmed with Dean's find as well, but waited.  
Dean pulled up a video after checking around on the Ghostfacers website.

_"We know why you're watching."_ A couple of guys wearing white lab coats appeared on the screen and Harry felt his eyebrow pop up of its own accord.

_"You've got a problem."_

_"A ghost-related problem. A ghost- it's like a ghost-adjacent pr- it's like a problem that's-"_

Yeah. Harry could see how they were going to help.

_"Whatever. You've come to the right place. The only decent place, really, because the Ghostfacers know how to solve it."_

_"Period."_

_"Watch and learn."_

_"See, the first step in any supernatural fight:"_

_"Figure out what you're up against."_ Harry rolled his eyes as the duo on screen stopped to talk at the same time.

Frankly, the only people Harry knew who did that were the twins, and they were twins. What was the excuse for these bloody morons? Harry missed the look shared by the others, so he jumped a bit when Dean's voice suddenly cut through the air.

"That's him. That's the ghost." Dean was looking at a picture of the man on Sam's laptop.

"P.T. Sandover. Died 1916. Devoted his life to his work. No wife, no kids." Sam went over and read off his laptop. 

He read through the article text next to the picture.

"Used to say he was the company. His very blood pumped through the building."

"Wow, okay. So slight workaholic. Maybe he's still here, you know, watching over the company, even killing for it."

"Plus, this isn't the first time people started killing themselves in the building. 1929."

"But lots of guys jumped off high rises that year."

"How many companies had seventeen suicides?"

"Phew. Okay, so P.T. Sandover, protector of the company. His ghost wakes up and becomes active during times of grave economic distress."

"Well, the worst time since the Great Depression-"

"Is now. Yeah, now sucks. My portfolio's in the sewer. I don't even wanna talk about it."

Harry felt like he was watching a tennis match with these two. They just kept picking up where the other left off. It was like they were in perfect sync with one another, and he suddenly felt like an outsider who really shouldn't be there. Was this how others felt when watching him with Ron and 'Mione?

"So Sandover's helping the bottom line-"

"By zapping some model employees."

"Yeah. I mean, Ian and Paul. It was like he turned them into different people."

"Perfect worker bees, exactly. So devoted to the company that they would commit hara-kiri if they failed it."

"What's hara-kiri?" Harry blurted out before his brain even registered his mouth forming the words.

The pair started. Apparently, Harry'd been quiet for far too long, as they'd actually forgotten about him being with them. It just made him feel shittier.

"Er, it's a ritual suicide practiced by the Japanese samurai. It involved them cutting open their own stomachs."

"Oh," Harry uttered more to himself than the other two.

Sam sent a sympathetic look Harry's way that he missed completely.

"Uh, one more interesting fact. The building wasn't always that high. Used to be fourteen floors. And the room where the ghost attacked, fourteen forty-four? Once upon a time, that was the old man's office."

The pair continued watching some more Ghostfacer videos, which Harry just listened to from a distance. He didn't really feel welcome in this little mission of theirs. Plus, he thought Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler were more than a bit ridiculous. How did Sam and Dean even know these guys were for real? They could just be making crap up! Sure, Harry was no expert himself, having only met a few ghosts at Hogwarts, but were the rules in this world really so different that salt would hurt a ghost?!

_"-A bad trip for ghosts. Next up, iron."_

_"That's why the wrench worked."_

_"Pure power in your hand."_

_"Dissipates ghost instantly."_

_"Next little trick. We learned from those useless douchebags-"_ Somehow, Harry got the feeling it was the other way around.

_"That we hate."_

_"The Winchesters."_

_"Gun."_

_"Shotgun shell. Pack it up with fresh rock salt."_

_"Very effective."_

_"Very effective."_

_"Winchesters still suck ass though."_

_"Affirmative. Suckage major."_

2222222222222222222

Harry watched silently as Dean packed two iron pokers into a duffel bag that held a salt shaker and other unidentifiable items.

"Where do we even get a gun?" Dean wondered aloud as Sam came up behind him.

"Gun store?"

"Isn't there a waiting period?"

"I think so."

"How in the hell-"

"I don't know. Seems pretty impossible, honestly."

Okay, if this is how other people felt around him and the other members of the Golden Trio, no wonder the others in the school looked like they wanted to murder them sometimes. It sucked being left out.

"Right." Dean replied to Sam, still ignoring Harry.

2222222222222222

Somehow, they ended up watching more of the Ghostfacers, whom of which Harry still felt were a pair of morons.

_"The aforementioned super-annoying Winchester douchenozzles also taught us this one other thing. You have to burn the remains."_

_"Okay, this next part gets a little gross. Sometimes... you might have to dig up the body. Sorry."_ Dean blinked in, well Harry wasn't sure what that expression meant yet, as he'd only known the man since that morning.

_"It's illegal in some states."_

_"All states,"_ Harry Spangler muttered on the screen.

_"Possibly all states."_

_"Sandover was cremated,"_ Sam stated in frustration, as he stared at his laptop.

_"What? So what do we do now?"_ Dean came and leaned over Sam's shoulder to see the screen as well.

_"Now, if the deceased has been cremated-"_

_"Don't panic."_

_"Don't panic."_

Harry just rolled his eyes at the two on the screen, but kept quiet.

_"Just gotta look for some remains."_

_"A hair in a locket, maybe. Fingernails. Baby teeth."_

_"Milk teeth."_

_"Genetic material. You know what we're talking about."_

_"Go find it."_

_"Fight well, young lions."_

_"Godspeed."_

Thank Merlin.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Sam had bid him a polite farewell, then went outside to wait for Dean. Dean on the other hand, still wouldn't look at him, and frankly Harry was just fed up at that point.

"Dean. I'm sorry. I- This morning, when I woke up. I had no idea what was going on, it was all so confusing. I didn't say anything to you and I'm sorry, but I wasn't sure about what I could possibly say. It all sounded so insane. I never asked for this to happen. I- If you want me to leave after this whole mess with the ghost is straightened out, then I'll understand. Just please. Don't hate me for taking the other's Harry's place. I didn't mean to." Harry hated how desperate he began to sound towards the end of his speech.

Harry was looking down at this point, so he missed when Dean lifted his head and stared at him during his explanation. Harry fidgeted, twisting the bottom of his shirt, as he always did when he was nervous about something. He finally dared to look up through his unruly wisps of waves, and almost flinched back from the intense gaze Dean was shooting at him. It was a searching look, like Dean was trying to find something within Harry. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Dean spoke.

"It really is you, isn't it? I mean you act just like my Harry, and yet you're still different. You didn't seem surprised this morning or confused when I mentioned the Dursleys. Did you live with them in your own world too?" Dean just stared at

Harry with what appeared to be desperation.

As if Harry's answer would mean the end of Dean's world. Just how much did Harry Evans mean to this man?

"Yes. I've lived with them since I was just a baby, after my parents died. I- I have scars from my time there, did your Harry have some as well?" Harry questioned.  
It was if that answer was some kind of confirmation to Dean, as he finally relaxed in Harry's presence for the first time since finding out about Harry not being Dean's fiance.

"Harry, loo-" The sound of knocking cut Dean off before he could say anything more.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting, but we'd better leave. We don't have a whole lot of time," Sam's muffled voice sounded through the closed door.

"We'll talk about this when I get back, okay. Just... don't leave." Dean sent him a pleading look, before opening the door and walking out.

All things considered, Harry supposed that was better than Dean's constant silence. Now he only felt slightly guilty for putting those tracking charms on the pair. Did they really think he was leaving a pair of novices to ghost hunting alone?

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Harry decided it best if he waited a little bit before following, but once he left the flat, he apparated straight into the building. I wasn't too far from the tracker he'd left on Sam. By the time he'd reached where Sam's tracker had been, the man had already moved on, and left Harry wishing he picked another point to follow Sam from. There was a man on the floor... missing the top half of his torso. He knew he hated elevators for a reason.

Harry moved on and continued following Sam's tracker. Eventually, he came upon the sound of voices and rounded the corner... with Dean's body flying right into the wall next to him. Harry was about to go to the downed man to help, but whipped his head around when he heard the slam of another body hitting the wall, which turned out to be Sam. The ghost of Sandover approached Sam, with a hand sparking in energy. Sam flung some salt out and hit the ghost, making him dissipate, shocking Harry. Who knew those morons from the videos were right, eh?

Harry's attention was brought back to Dean, who was getting up.

"Oh nice," Dean commented, just as Sandover appeared behind him. 

Harry, going purely on instinct, summoned the iron poker by Sam and flung it with a wave of his hand straight through Sandover. Dean and Sam turned in shock to stare at him for a moment.

"Harry?! What the hell was that?!" Dean asked with wide eyes.

"No time! Finish it!" Harry shouted, causing Sam to get up and get the other poker.

Dean picked up the other one and moved to Sam just as Sandover appeared between the pair. They simultaneously hit him with the pokers, making him dissipate again. The ghost popped up once more behind Dean, who turned to get him, then behind Sam, who did the same. While this odd game was happening between the pair of men and the ghost, Harry was looking around for some clue of what he was supposed to be destroying.

Apparently, the ghost grew tired of the game during Harry's mad search, as he suddenly threw the pair into opposite walls. Sandover approached Dean with his sparking hands and just as he was about to reach him, the ghost bursts into flames. Dean blinked after a few seconds of silence, then looked to Sam, who appeared a bit dazed against the opposite wall, then Harry. Sam looked to Harry too, and saw the burnt remains of the gloves at his feet.

"But how? The lighter is still over there. The salt was too for that matter," Sam asked in confusion.

"Summoned the salt. Created a flame. I'm uh, kind of a wizard." Harry shrugged and explained nervously to the pair.

"A wizard?! Like a wand waving, broom riding, cauldron boiling type?" Dean questioned with slight skepticism in his voice and that look on his face Harry had been seeing all morning.

"Yes, though I don't really need a wand to do magic anymore. My broom is, unfortunately, back in my world. As far as cauldrons go; well I was never any good at making potions." Harry's explanation caused Sam to grin, and Dean gave a small smirk.

"That whole thing was amazing!" Sam exclaimed with enthusiasm.

"Right?! Right?!" Harry felt his lips curl into a smile at how much Dean sounded like an eager child.

The trio made their way to Dean's office, where Dean pulled a first-aid kit out of his desk.

"Man, I gotta tell you, I've never had so much fun in my life." Harry nearly snorted at Dean's proclamation.

Yeah, nearly dying was always fun. Merlin, was this how Hermione felt around Ron and him? If so, no wonder the poor girl was always looking so stressed. Just made Harry miss the two of them more. He'd never get to see them again. He hoped they were alright.

"Me neither," Sam agreed.

"Was a hell of a workout too, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, and did you see what Harry did with the poker? How he flung it at Sandover with just a wave of his hand? And you said you're a wizard? Are there more like you in your world, Harry?" Sam turned to Harry, who jolted back into reality.

"Yes, an entire world really, we just exist away from non-magical humans, or Muggles, as we refer to them."

"You said you were in a war?" Harry was surprised, as it was Dean who'd asked this question, rather than Sam.

Harry sighed then, and launched into the explanation about his world, Voldemort, his parent's death, the prophecy and his role in the wizarding world, and finally the Final Battle. He wasn't able to tell every little detail, as there was just so much to the story, but it was a good enough explanation for the pair of men. Sam seemed eager to swallow any little tidbit of information Harry could give him about the wizarding world and magic. Harry found himself charmed by the young man who reminded him more and more of Hermione.

Eventually, Sam exhausted his line of questioning and the trio just sat in silence for a little while.

"We should keep doing this." Sam interrupted the silence of the room and caused Harry to jump a bit.

Dean bumped his shoulder into Harry's, who turned to look at Dean in surprise of the action. Dean just gave him a little quirk of his lips in answer. Harry smiled shyly in return, before turning back to Sam.

"I know," Dean agreed, unthinkingly, while still giving more of his attention to Harry.

"I mean it. There's gotta be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people," Sam said seriously.

"Right, we'd be like the Ghostfacers," Dean teased.

Harry couldn't stop the giggle that exited his throat and promptly slapped a hand over his mouth. He glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eye and caught the man smiling softly at him for the first time since that morning, since finding out who Harry really was. Harry couldn't decide if he should be embarrassed for being such a spaz or being ridiculously happy that Dean was looking like that at him once more. He decided on a mix of both doing rather well.

"No, really. I mean, for real," Sam continued, getting a bit frustrated at not being taken seriously.

"What? Like, quit our jobs and hit the road?" Dean finally turned an incredulous face towards Sam.

"Exactly."

"How would we live?"

"Uh..."

"You gotta be kidding me. How would we get by? With stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?" Harry snorted at that last bit about the food. 

Personally he thought Dean would flip if anyone tried feeding him anything dripping in grease. Of course, he was basing his assumption purely on the contents of the man's refrigerator, but still, Harry just had a feeling about it. The man seemed a bit OCD, he'd found the medicine cabinet arranged in alphabetical order. Obsessing about his health didn't seem too far off in Harry's mind.

"And what about Harry, huh? Just because he isn't my Harry, doesn't mean I can just abandon him. Especially since he's in a completely different world than his own."

"That's all just details, and I wouldn't mind Harry coming with us. I mean, you saw how he handled himself with Sandover. He obviously knows how to take care of himself. His abilities could be useful." Sam opposed.

"Oh no, I'm not letting you bring Harry with us just so we could use him for his magic. As far as I'm concerned, Harry won't be facing anymore ghosts, or whatever the hell else you want us fighting."

"Dean. I am a big boy, you know." Harry rolled his eyes at Dean's words. 

Honestly, he was a freaking solider at this point, and Dean was worrying about his safety now? Didn't he listen to any of Harry's story?

"I know, Harry. Anyway, details are everything. You don't wanna go fighting ghosts without any health insurance."

"All right. Um. Confession." Sam looked a bit sheepish.

"What?" Dean looked more than a bit annoyed at that point.

"Remember those dreams I told you about with the ghosts?"

"Yeah?" Dean agreed.

"I was fighting them."

"Okay," Dean said, obviously waiting for something more profound.

"With you. We were these, like, hunters, and we were friends. More like brothers, really. I mean, what if that's who we really are? You saw us back there, working together. The ghost was scrambling brains. What if it scrambled ours?"

"That's insane."

"I hate to help with the insanity, but I think Sam may be onto something. Not about the ghost brain scrambling bit, because that just sounds silly, Sam. I think we may be living in an alternate world, though. I mean, obviously I am, but what about Sam's dreams? They focused specifically on the two of you working together as a team, and while watching the two of you earlier, you two were eerily in sync. It reminded me of how I am- was- with my two best friends, we practically shared one brain, what with our just knowing what the other was thinking the majority of the time. You being brothers may not be that far fetched."

"No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo. I'm sorry, but how do you know that your memories aren't the fake ones."

"Because I can remember little details from that world that I have no clue about here. The political climate, important details about my friends and other things. I don't have the first clue about anything here." Harry argued his case, he knew his world was real, this one was the wrong one, he just felt it.

"When was the last time you talked to your family, Dean? To any of them?" Sam continued.

"Okay, you're upset. You're both upset, confused-"

"Yeah, 'cause I only moved here 'cause I just broke up with my fiance, Madison. But I called her number and I got a damn animal hospital."

"Okay. What are you saying? Are you trying to say that my family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on, if that were true, Harry would have a fake set too. How come he hasn't been implanted with a set of the Malibu Barbie dream life memories?"

"Maybe he's immune, because of his magic?" Sam theorized, then turned to Harry, as did Dean.

"Er, well, my enemies have tried invading my mind before, but it never really lasted long. I was able to throw them out." Harry shrunk in a bit on himself, he always hated having so much attention placed on him over his unique abilities.

Sam threw Dean a smug look, who glared back at Sam.

"All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know. I know that deep down, you gotta be feeling it too. We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douche bag. This isn't you. I know you." Sam finished his case as he got up.

"Know me? You don't know me, pal. You should go."

Sam did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the great reviews everyone! Glad to know so many readers are enjoying this fic.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Harry couldn't help but fidget the whole back back to the flat. Dean didn't say anything, just drove in silence. Finally, they arrived and Harry all but jumped out of the car. The silence continued all the way until they made it inside.

"Why do you think this world isn't right? Do you hate it so much, being here with me? Hell, you told me you were in a war in your world. Do you really prefer that, to being here, with me?" Dean turned and stared at Harry.

"No! Merlin! I don't know! I'm glad to be alive, don't get me wrong. I thought I was going to die, and I'd managed to spend the year knowing this trying to come to terms with it. And then I finally did, only to find I'd been given a second chance, and I find out of all of the places I could have woken up in, it was here. I woke up here, with you. I am glad I got to meet you Dean. I _like_ you. A lot. But I have friends that I left behind too, in my world. I miss them so much. I don't even know if they're alive. I don't know if Voldemort is even dead! Merlin, what if I made the wrong choice?! It felt right, but what if that was my own selfishness getting in the way?!" Harry was pacing back and forth across the room, pulling his inky tresses roughly by the time his rant was over.

Dean approached him and pulled his hand away from his hair.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have questioned your memories like that. I just have a hard time believing everything I know being fake. I mean, if I don't really have a family, then who do I have? I don't even have you, and I was happy with Harry. He was... but he wasn't even real, was he? You though, you're real. You act so much like him, he would've freaked out the same way, you know? You have the same ticks too, like that shirt thing you always do. Shit this is confusing. I feel like I'm taking advantage, but am I really? You're real and he isn't, so why do I know you so well? Like you fit with me?" Dean cupped Harry's face in his hand, his other hand still holding one of Harry's.

"You feel it too? I felt something with you this morning. It was odd, like I knew you wouldn't hurt me, even though you were a complete stranger."

"Right? I feel like you and me, we're supposed to be together. Weird. Whadduya say we give this a shot? Start fresh. Dating. I can take the spare bedroom for a while, we can find out about each other. For real this time." Dean's thumb stroked over Harry's cheek, making him close his eyes in contentment.

"I'd like that." Harry looked up and smiled at Dean.

Dean smiled back softly and leaned down to give Harry a chaste kiss on the lips.

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Another day at the office. He swore he used to love this. Now though, after hunting an actual ghost with Sam and seeing what Harry could do, it just wasn't the same. He sighed and kept typing at his computer. A knock on the door stopped him. It was Adler.

"Got a minute?" Adler peeked in, all fakes smiles that set Dean's teeth on edge.

"Sure, of course."

Adler came in and shut the door.

"How are you feeling, Dean?"

"Uh, great." Dean lied.

Sure, he was happy about how his situation with Harry was going, but the fake memories thing just blowed.

"You look a little tired. Been working hard, I gather."

"Yeah."

"Ah, don't be modest. I hear everything. And I'm pleased with what I'm hearing." Adler sat down in front of Dean's desk.

"That's why it's important to me that you're happy." Adler continued.

Adler pulled out a pen, grabbed a piece of notepaper, and wrote down a five-digit number.

"How's that for a bonus?"

"That's very generous." Dean spoke as he looked at the paper.

"Purely selfish. Wanna make sure you're not going anywhere."

"Wow. Are you sure?"

"Positive. You are Sandover material, son. Real go-getter. Carving your own way."

"Well, thanks. I try."

"I see big things in your future. Maybe even senior VP, Eastern Great Lakes Division. Don't get me wrong, you'll have to work for it. Seven days a week, lunch at your desk, but in eight to ten short years, that could be you." Somehow that whole futuristic scenario left a heavy feeling in his stomach that he found terrible.

Dean took off his headset, and placed it on the desk.

"Well, uh, thank you. Thank you, sir. It's, um... but..." He felt like he was suffocating in the room, like his tie was a noose around his neck that he desperately wanted to rip off.

He passed the paper back. Was he really going to do this? What about Harry? He was the bread winner. Even his fake memory Harry didn't have a job. The Dursley's had done a major number on his Harry's head, so when he'd met him, Harry was a scared wreck. Would never look anybody in the eyes, flinched at any movements that were too fast or if he was touched. It had taken so long to break Harry out of those habits. Dean found himself wondering if the real Harry he'd just met had gone through any of that. He wanted to take care of Harry, always had. Now he was actually going to quit, and what? Pursue Sam's crazy idea?

"I am giving my notice." Dean spoke reluctantly.

"This is a joke. You're kidding me, right?" Adlers' fake smile slowly slipped from his face at Dean's news.

"No. I've- I recently- _very_ recently realized that I have some other work I have to do. It's, uh, very important to me."

"Other work? Another company?" Adler looked alarmed at his assumption.

"No, I- it's hard to explain. Um. It's just that this- this is- it's just- it's not who I'm supposed to be." He nearly grimaced as he qouted Sam.

Dean waited for Adler's reaction, and found himself surprised, not to mention a little suspicsious, when Adler grinned.

"What?" Dean eyed the man cautiously.

"Dean, Dean, Dean. Finally." Finally?

Adler stood suddenly and pressed two fingers to Dean's forehead. It felt different. It was like the colors in the room just dimmed. Dean looked around the office, then at himself in confusion.

"The hell? Why am I wearing a tie? My God, am I hungry." He fingered his tie with distaste and rubbed his stomach.

He looked up when Adler laughed.

"Welcome back." Dean stood.

"Wait. Did I- did I just get touched by- you're an angel, aren't you?"

"I'm Zachariah." Dean sent the angel an unimpressed look.

"Oh, great. That's all I need is another one of you guys." Dean paced behind his desk a bit.

"I'm hardly another one, Dean. I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into one of these smelly things." Zachariah waved his hand at his body with a look of disgust on his face.

"But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row."

"I am not one of your ducks." Dean said angrily.

"Starting with your attitude." Where the angel was all smiles before as Adler, he was now cold business as Zachariah.

"Oh, so, what? This was all some sort of lesson? Is that what you're telling me? Wow. Very creative."

"You should see my decoupage."

"Gross. No thank you. So, what? I'm just hallucinating all this? Is that it?" Dean looked a little disgusted at Zachariah's retort.

"Not at all. Real place, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories."

"Just to shake things up? Hm? So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?" He nearly asked if the bastard had dropped Harry into the middle of things to confuse the shit out of him, but something held him back from speaking about Harry.

Maybe it was just gut instinct, or maybe his time as Dean Smith instilled that desire to protect the magic user, and hello magic user, he should be trying to gank the wizard, not protect him. When he thought back to Harry though, Harry was too much of a little sweetheart to really be dangerous, right? Or maybe Harry hadn't even been real anyhow, and the bastard in front of him was just fucking with him big time. He finally tuned back into Zachariah's grand speech about being the big hero and shit.

"To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood. You're a hunter. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you love it. You find your way to it in the dark every single time and you're miserable without it. Dean, let's be real here. You're good at this. You'll be successful. You will stop it."

"Stop what? The apocalypse, huh? Lucifer? What? Be specific, man."

"You'll do everything you're destined to do. All of it. But I know, I know. You're not strong enough. You're scared. You got daddy issues. You can't do it. Right?"

"Angel or not, I will stab you in the face."

"All I'm saying is it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things."

Dean turned away.

"Save people, maybe even the world. All the while you drive a classic car and fornicate with women. This isn't a curse. It's a gift. So for God's sakes, Dean quit whining about it. Look around. There are plently of fates worse than yours. So are you with me? You wanna go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?"

Okay, so maybe the bastard had a point. He did miss his baby. Then there was Sammy, Dean couldn't just leave the Sasquatch alone, he was liable to get himself killed. He always had put Sammy first, even before his own happiness. Harry.

'Harry, if you are real, I'm sorry.'


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, people were totally harsh towards Dean in that last chapter. You guys didn't really think he was going to abandon Sam and stay in that fake world, did you? The guy did go to hell for his little brother. I think it's established that Dean puts Sam before himself. Anyhow, I've reunited the two, so everyone can stop freaking out. Jeez. Let me know what you thought of this latest chapter, and thanks for all of the great support you've shown for this story so far.

Chapter 5:

Harry woke up slowly, eyebrows coming together in a frown. It was morning already? Opening his eyes, Harry sat up in the bed and rubbed the sleep from his face. Something felt off. He immediately knew why when he finally looked around. He was in a motel room.

After having a major freak-out over suddenly being in a motel room instead of the flat he'd fallen asleep in, Harry found out he was in a motel room in Georgia. It was confusing for Harry, to suddenly be all alone in a strange place he didn't know. Fortunately, Harry Potter was used to odd happenings, so he'd set out with the few belongings he had.

Apparently, the pouch Hermione had given him as a gift had gone with him to the flat he'd woken up in, he just hadn't been wearing it. It had been in the drawer by the bed, how it had ended up there Harry hadn't known, but he figured magic was involved and decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead, he'd donned the pouch and hadn't taken it off since. It was a good thing he'd done so, he would've mourned its loss if he'd woken up without it in that motel room.

The pouch didn't have much that would be helpful in the situation Harry found himself in, the broken mirror from Sirius, the broken pieces of his wand, his father's invisibility cloak, a few books of Hermione's she had been too paranoid over to leave just anywhere, and some galleons. If he was lucky, maybe he could sell the galleons for some money. Surely someone would be interested in purchasing the odd coins.

Once he secured some money, he would worry about finding out where he was, and try to figure out what the bloody hell had happened.

He hoped Dean and Sam were okay, if they were real.

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Dean left the bar, ignoring the woman at the bar who'd been sending him heated looks all night. Everything was shit, had been for a while now. Things had just gone right down hill; all the seals had been broken, Lucifer had been set free, he was Michael's vessel, and Sam... Sam was somewhere else. He had grown tired of watching over Sam all the time, watching him make mistakes. Sam hadn't listened to him, instead he'd chosen to listen to a demon.

So, he'd agreed with Sam, told him to leave. Now he was alone. Sometimes, he wondered what would've happened if he'd chosen to stay in that false world Zachariah had created. He wouldn't be dealing with this mess, if he had. Wouldn't have had to watch Sam turn to a demon over him, Sam's older brother. He would've been with Harry...

Dean shook his head, trying to dislodge that train of thought before it took off. It was no use. Hell, he couldn't even hook up with anyone, and it wasn't like he hadn't tried. It was easy to sweet talk a woman into doing anything he wanted, but whenever he got to actually doing anything his heart just wasn't in it. Too many curves where there should have been the lean softness of faint muscles that weren't fully developed, hair not dark enough or wild and untamed looking, eyes no where near as green.

It wasn't fair. That bastard Zachariah had probably just created Harry to fuck with Dean's head. He was known as a ladies’ man, after all, why not mess around and make him doubt himself. Only, Dean wasn't so sure about Zachariah having anything to do with Harry.

The angel hadn't made any mention of him at all, and there had been plenty of opportunity to mock Dean over his lack of home run's in the bedroom lately. Even Sam had been giving him odd looks before their split. Waitresses barely getting a glance as he'd order, potential conquests ignored in the bars. Sam would mention someone checking him out and Dean would make an excuse, letting the chance for some action go.

It was really starting to piss him off, how he would check the color of people's eyes and hair, find them wanting, and would suddenly not have any interest in them.

At the rate he was going, he wouldn't be getting laid in a while.

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Time had passed quickly from the morning he'd woken up in that motel room. Using the only resources he'd had available, he'd managed to get some money from the few galleons he'd had in his pouch around his neck. Hermione would've been proud of his resourcefulness. He'd always been adaptable.

Moving from one state to another, he made more quick cash by taking odd jobs where he could find them. Eventually he'd made enough to buy an old used car. He had no idea what model it was, as he'd never really needed to know such things, but he liked the shape and color of it. It was a dark blue, and it was all his.

With the new mode of transportation, he was able to travel even more than he had before, moving from place to place quickly. He never stayed long, just long enough to sate his curiosity about a place. During his travels, the idea to look up Harry Evans hit him, and wouldn't leave until he'd done so. He began looking through any leads he could find, but there wasn't any person that he could find that matched his build and age. Not unless he was a forty-two year old with a wife and three kids, weighing in at three hundred and two pounds.

It was frustrating, and only brought more unanswered questions to mind. So far the only thing he knew about his situation was thus; he'd died and gone to some odd purgatory where he was given a choice, he'd chosen to move on, he'd been taken to another world, the people in that world apparently weren't supposed to be there either, the supernatural still existed in that world, he'd woken up again in possibly _another_ new world, and Harry Evans did not exist anywhere that he could find.

He'd even tried using magic to find him, but it didn't work at all. The location spell he'd attempted ended up not showing anything, which only happened if there was no one it could find. If his doppelganger had been dead, the spell would've indicated such, and if he himself _was_ Harry Evans, the spell would've shown that as well. So if Harry Evans didn't even exist, then had he really taken anyone's place? Perhaps the memories that Dean had received were just put there by whatever magic had brought Harry there. Maybe it was a security measure, to make sure that _someone_ would know Harry, even if those memories were false.

Sometimes Harry wondered if this was his punishment for not choosing correctly. Perhaps it had all been a test of the worth of his soul, and just maybe, he'd chosen wrong. Why else show him the kind of life he could've had, then simply take it from him. Now he was here, all alone in this world that was so much like his, yet not. He'd tried returning to England, tried looking for Hogwarts and the platform at the train station. There wasn't anything to find, though. Magic such as his didn't exist in this different world Harry found himself in.

Instead, he'd found a different kind of magic. During his travels he'd stumbled across the supernatural of this new world, he'd found a man fighting a woman. Apparently the woman was a witch, but she didn't have a wand or any types of potions. Instead, she'd used a book, and read aloud her spells to combat the man.

Harry hadn't needed to watch the scene long to know she was up to terrible deeds, so he'd gone and helped the man.

The man had introduced himself afterwards, as Rufus.

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He was leaving after his latest hunt, driving down the dark road in the dead of night, rain coming down in soft waves, the wind dancing through it. Def Leppard's, "Too Late For Love", blaring through the Impala's speakers.  Things had been relatively quiet lately, Bobby decided it was his job to keep him updated with Sam, telling him how he was doing. Dean didn't bother saying anything during those times, just listened and changed the subject when the man was done.

Castiel still popped in on him and kept him up to speed on the hunt for God, he didn't have the heart to keep telling the angel how useless it was. It wouldn't be fair to take away the angel's last hope. He recognized an act of desperation when he saw one, and it was clear that Castiel didn't have anymore ideas on what he could do to help.

Dean hit the fast forward on the tape deck, and promptly slammed on the brakes when two men suddenly rolled out into the middle of the road through the tall trees of the forest. He stared in shock as the smaller figure of what looked to be a man lifted his arms high above his head, the gleaming light of a long knife in his hands caught the gaze of the full moon. The man, no _beast_ , below the smaller man snarled and threw the smaller man off of his body.

The tiny body went flying across the road, rolling onto the wet earth. Dean climbed out to help what he could only assume was a hunter, pulled his gun out of his pocket and shot a few salt rounds into the creature. Unfortunately, all of his guns with silver bullets were in the trunk of the Impala, so really, he was only pissing off the werewolf. The werewolf went back a bit from the hits of the bullets, but turned immediately after and roared at Dean. The creature charged at him, and Dean was readying himself to leap out of the way, when another body flew at the werewolf! Dean gaped at the tiny figure, who'd leapt onto the beast's imposing figure and stabbed the werewolf in the back of its neck.

The werewolf let out an agonized howl of pain as it dropped to the ground, carrying the little hunter with it. The hunter swiftly cut the werewolf's throat, ending its suffering quickly. The only sound left was the sound of quiet rain and heavy panting. Dean stared hard through the rain, trying to make out more of the person's features. Unfortunately, it'd have to wait until he could get the person somewhere else, as the rain was making it impossible to make out anything.

"Hey! You alright?!" He called through the sound of the water, that was picking up in strength.

The figure nodded, and Dean figured it was time to get going.

"Come on! I'll give 'ya a ride to the next town!" Dean didn't bother waiting for a reply and turned back to the Impala.

Climbing in, he reached into the back and pulled out a couple of towels, wiping himself off. His poor baby was gonna get water all over her nice leather. He sighed to himself and watched the hunter approach the car. Even passing by the lights of the Impala, Dean still couldn't make anything out. The door opened and the hunter slid into the car. Dean tossed the other towel at- well at the person, as he still couldn't figure out if it was a male or female.

"Thank you." A soft lilting English accent greeted Dean's ears, making him freeze in the act of shifting the Impala into drive.

"You're welcome." He grunted, and drove away.

55555555

Harry wasn't sure if he should be pissed at Rufus for sending him on the hunt for the werewolf or not. On the one hand, he'd been itching for a hunt, on the other, he'd lost his car. The damn werewolf had screwed it all up when it decided to slam into his side of the car, effectively causing him to drive right into a tree. From there it had been a game of deadly hide and seek, Harry sometimes hiding from and other times seeking out the wolf.

Finally, everything had come to a head when he'd gotten fed up and tackled the beast. Of course, his strange luck had caused him to end up running into a man. A man who apparently wasn't surprised by the werewolf and instead, had actually _helped_ him kill the wolf. Harry didn't usually end up hitching rides from strangers, but considering he was in the middle of nowhere, he'd decided not to make a fuss and got into the car.

555555555

They managed to find a little town after an hour and a half of driving. Dean got a room, and all but dragged the other person inside. He still wasn't sure what to make of the situation, and he certainly wasn't about to let someone who'd ganked a werewolf out of his sight. At least not until he was sure of the person.

"Here, dry yourself off." Dean pulled a towel from the bathroom and tossed it to the other.

He dried himself off and finally turned to check out the person he'd brought with him.

With the towel in the way, he couldn't make out the person's face, but he did make out a few wavy locks of black hair from beneath the towel. Dean could finally tell that it was a man, albeit a small one, dressed in a black leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans. Tight jeans. He tore his eyes away and cleared his throat once he realized he was staring at the legs encased in those jeans.

"So, what's your name?" Dean dabbed at his soaked leather jacket that he held in his hands with the towel, while he waited for an answer.

"Harry." The man stopped rubbing his hair and peeked out from behind it with one of his eyes.

Dean froze and glanced up at... Harry? His eyes widened when he saw the green eye. Soon there were two green eyes staring at him in equal shock, Harry's hands slowly lowered the towel.

"Dean?" Harry whispered in what sounded like awe to Dean, but he wasn't sure.

Hearing his name did snap him out of the stand still he was in though, as he whipped his gun out and pointed it steadily at Harry's forehead.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Harry took a small step back and held up his hands, palms out, in a placating manner.

"Did that douchebag of an angel send you?!" Dean's stony expression watched Harry's every reaction, searching for one sign of deception on his part.

"Angel? I- what?" Harry's confused face looked far too genuine to Dean to be any sort of act, but he didn't lower his weapon just yet.

"Cut the act! You just suddenly appear out of nowhere during the time that Zachariah was pulling a mind fuck on Sam and me? Tell me why he placed you there! What's your role in

all of this?!" Dean barked out harshly.

"Look, I don't know any Zachariah. I do have a theory on why I was placed with you, though. I think the magic that-" Harry's eyes pleaded for Dean to believe him, but Dean was feeling stubborn.

"See, that's what's really got me wonderin'. Why'd the douche employ a demon's bitch to carry out his dirty work? Huh? Angels can't stand demons, so I doubt he was jumping for joy at the prospect." Dean's eyes narrowed and his finger itched to pull the trigger and end the witch's life.

"I don't- Demon's bitch? I don't know what you're talking about! I'm not working with any angels and I sure as hell am _not_ some demon's _bitch_!" Harry's eyes finally lit up with anger at the accusations flying from Dean's mouth.

He couldn't understand why the man was saying all of these things! Harry didn't know any damn angels, and he definitely didn't know any demons. Rufus was still teaching him, and so far he'd only learned a little bit about demons. What he did know, though, was that it was a huge insult to him to be referred to as a demon's _bitch_. He certainly didn't know about angels being real, either.

"Don't lie to- You know what? It really doesn't matter, cause I'm not about to let you walk out of here alive, witch!" Dean's finger began compressing on the trigger, when a flutter of wings sounded just as he fired.

His arm holding the gun jerked up at an angle, completely missing the little witch he was aiming at.

"Stop!" Dean's head swiveled to the angel standing next to him.

"Castiel?! What the hell man?" Dean looked at the shot he'd ended up firing into the upper corner of the room's ceiling.

"This man is to be protected, not slain."

"What the...?" Both men turned their eyes towards Harry, who dropped the towel from his nerveless fingers.

The fingers shook slightly, the shot had startled him, as he truly hadn't expected Dean to actually try to shoot him. If he was being honest with himself, he was extremely hurt by what the man had tried to do. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised though. The only thing that had saved him was this man, only Harry didn't think it was really a man. Men didn't usually have wings.

"Are you-You're an angel, aren't you?" Harry wide green eyes traced over the huge white wings gracing the male's back in wonder.

"How the hell'd he know that Cas?" Dean whispered to Castiel, all the while not tearing his eyes away from the man he'd thought to be an enemy.

"He can see my wings. It is not unusual for his kind, many were able to see our true forms when we were in his world." Castiel answered lowly to Dean.

"His world? What the hell is going on Cas? Why'd he suddenly just show up here, during the whole memory wipe stunt of Zachariah's?" Dean's eyebrows furrowed into confusion, as he finally turned to watch Castiel.

"I do not know, though I suspect magic to be involved, as none of the angels have mentioned him. Harry Potter, how have you come to be here, in this alternate world?" Castiel gazed at Harry, his face slightly puzzled.

"I... I think magic from that weird limbo place brought me here." Harry relaxed a bit, seeing the angel was only curious about his presence, rather than hostile over it.

"Limbo place?" Castiel's brows furrowed the tiniest bit, but otherwise his expression stayed blank.

Harry explained his theory of the magic from the blindingly white train station taking him to another world. He spoke of the confusion he'd felt upon waking in the flat he'd shared with Dean Smith, his figuring out that he was in the future, in an alternate world, and all the other things he suspected. The two males listened without interrupting until he finished speaking.

Harry finally went and slumped onto one of the beds. He hated having to explain about himself. He'd had to do a bit of that with Rufus, but he obviously hadn't told the man about his magic and being from another world. Harry wasn't sure, but he had a feeling that Rufus had some suspicions about Harry anyhow. The man was far too clever not to.

"I believe you are correct in your suspicions Harry. If an angel truly did bring you here, there likely would have been some whisper of it amongst the garrison. I can not feel your presence even now, whilst you sit before me."

"Then... how did you know to help me?" Harry frowned up at Castiel, who was still standing.

"I was coming to speak to Dean. I noticed you with him and what was happening. I can not _feel_ your magic, but I _can_ see it. I suspect you are masking your magic?"

"Um, I don't think I am. I mean, I've never tried to before."

"Hm, perhaps it is an unconscious desire on your part. Just because I can not sense you, does not mean I do not know who you are, Harry James Potter. Many of my kind were curious about you, even before your birth. We have not graced your world with our presence for a very long time, but some are still assigned to watch over that world. The ones who stood sentinel over your world spoke highly of you. You gave yourself so that others may live."

"Gave himself?" The pair looked over to Dean, slightly startled.

They'd almost forgotten about his presence.

"Harry gave his life in order to defeat a dark wizard in his world. It is believed this wizard wishes to kill many in that world that is not born of magic, as he was."

"I did what I had to. I'm not anything special. I just- I did what others couldn't, or wouldn't, to survive. Please, do you know if it worked? Is Voldemort dead?" Harry asked desperately.

He'd wondered so long over the fate of his friends and loved ones. Were they alive, or had his decision been selfish?

"I do not know. I have been cut off from heaven, so I am unable to ask the angels that watch over your world." Castiel told Harry somberly.

"Oh." Harry's body dropped in disappointment.

"You couldn't have been the only one that had the power to gank him, right?" Dean's voice suddenly broke through the heavy silence.

"I was the one prophesized to defeat him, actually. Voldemort's soul pieces were destroyed, though. Ron and Hermione knew that with my death, he would be mortal again. My only hope is that they were alive to tell others this." Harry frowned and gazed down at his hands.

"See, I doubt your friends would've just let you run off to sacrifice yourself and not do anything after that."

Harry peeked up shyly at Dean, who was sitting in a chair at the small round table, and gave him a slight smile as thanks. Dean just gave a slight nod, then looked over at Castiel.

"So, wait. When I suddenly came into that fake reality Zachariah made up, Dean said my name was Harry Evans, was that just false memories talking? There wasn't really any Harry Evens, right? I certainly couldn't find any sign of one existing in this world." Harry broke the silence when he remembered a very pressing question he had, pop up.

"Whatever magic brought you here must have put those memories into Dean, for there is no Harry Evans here. There never was." Castiel answered, looking to Harry.

"So, some weird hoodoo put those memories of Harry into my head. Not Zachariah?" Dean leaned onto his knees with his elbows in interest, as he stared up at Castiel.

"Yes, it was likely the only way the magic could have seamlessly integrated Harry into this world at that particular point in time. I can only imagine the kind of disruptions Harry's arrival might have caused at any other time. Dean, you must stick close to Harry. The angels do not know of him, yet. It is only a matter of time before the angels and demons learn of him. Someone of Harry's power will be considered an invaluable player, for either side." Castiel told Dean seriously.

"I'm not _that_ powerful." Harry muttered, while blushing down into his lap.

"You are. To deny such a thing would be foolish on your part. From a young age you have faced a wizard many years older than yourself and managed to survive those encounters, despite your lack in magical knowledge and experience. While some of that may have been 'luck', as you humans call it, it was also a show of the power you have. I must go, I have been here too long."

"Yeah, how's the hunt for God going, anyways?" Dean, who was looking down at his hands for a moment, asked.

His head shot up when he heard the fluttering of feathers.

"Goodbye to you too." Dean snorted, then looked over at Harry.

"So uh, about before-" Dean started.

"It's fine. You thought I was the enemy, I get it." Harry looked up and gave Dean a strained smile.

"I almost shot you, it's not fine. Look, I may have thought you were working with Zachariah then, but I know now that you aren't. So, sorry about the trying-to-shoot-you-thing, alright?" Dean's eyes skittered about the room as he apologized, and Harry almost laughed at how uncomfortable the man obviously was about doing it.

He was also touched by it. Harry could tell that Dean didn't often do such a thing.

"Yeah, alright. So what now?" Harry's left brow rose when Dean smirked at him.

"Now, we rest up for the night. In the morning we find ourselves a hunt, and you tell me about what you've been doing these last few weeks. It's obvious you've been hunting, so you're gonna show me what you've learned."

"Really now? I think I can do that." Harry gave a slight smile of his own, that Dean thought held something back, like Harry knew something he didn't.

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to challenge Harry. Dean had a feeling he was being tricked somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Special Ao3 note) So apparently the chapter order went to hell on this site. It's been a major pain with editing and just posting in rich text format, so I apologize for any confusion that's occurred. I've gone back and fixed the order now. If you ever spot a screw up in chapter order, please let me know so I can fix it. I had no idea about it until I came to check.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Traveling with Dean was different. It was interesting, and even fun at times. While he did miss his old car, he had to admit what a thing of beauty the Impala was.

Due to him traveling into the future, Dean had to teach Harry about the newer technology that existed. He'd also continued Harry's education on the supernatural beings that existed.

Harry didn't want to bring it up at first, but he wondered where Sam was. Was Sam real? Maybe the man had been a part of the weird world he'd landed in and nothing more. Still, he felt hesitant to bring the subject up with Dean. The man seemed troubled, tense.

Around the second week of traveling, Harry found the courage to ask.

"Sam's real." Dean grunted.

"Well, where is he?" Harry hesitantly asked.

"He's fine. Just on his own right now." Dean's way of answering let Harry know that the conversation was over.

Silence filled the car the rest of the trip, at least until Dean turned some of his classic rock on to get rid of it.

666666666666666666

Harry tried to talk to Dean every once and a while about Sam. He couldn't leave the subject alone, as he couldn't imagine having family and not speaking to them. He didn't think Dean had the same situation as he did with the Dursley's, after all.

Unfortunately, Dean seemed to be just as good at avoiding subjects as he was himself, so he never got very far with him. Apparently, he wasn't the only one bugging Dean about Sam though, as Dean would get phone calls from a man called Bobby. Dean swore by the man's knowledge, and Harry found it was truly as sound as Dean claimed.

So if Bobby couldn't talk some sense into Dean over his brother, Harry didn't have much hope of doing it himself.

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The pair pulled up to a motel for the night, as usual. Dean was grumpy, and Harry was tired, so there wasn't any talking going on. They left the Impala and took a bag of their things with them. Harry ignored the religious man standing outside the hotel doors with a handful of pamphlets. Everyone else seemed to be ignoring him as well.

Harry sort of felt bad for ignoring the man, but he really didn't want to get sucked into a conversation with him.

The man wouldn't be ignored however, when he stopped Dean.

"Excuse me, friend, but have you taken time out to think about God's plan for you?" He held up a pamphlet for Dean to see.

"Too friggin' much, pal." Dean just gave a blank stare, before continuing inside, Harry quick to follow.

Harry turned back to look at the man.

The man was watching them.

666666666666666666666

While Harry was showering for the night, Dean talked to Castiel.

"We're talking about the Colt, right? I mean, as in the Colt?"

"We are."

"Well, that doesn't make any sense. I mean, why would the demons keep a gun around that, uh, kills demons?"

"What? What? Did- I didn't- I didn't get that." Castiel nearly shouted as a loud car drove by.

Castiel scowled as he only received a laugh for his troubles.

"You know, it's kind of funny. Talking to a messenger of God on a cell phone. It's, you know, like watching a Hell's Angel on a moped." Dean quipped.

"This isn't funny, Dean. The voice says I'm almost out of minutes."

"Okay, all right. I'm- I'm telling you, Cas, the mooks have melted down the gun by now."

"Well, I hear differently. And if it's true and if you are still set on the insane task of killing the devil, this is how we do it." Castiel insisted.

"Okay. Where do we start?"

"Where are you now?"

"Kansas City." Dean replied as he leaned across the bed to grab his room key off of the bedside table.

"Century Hall, room 113."

"I'll be there immediately."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. No, no, come on, man. Harry and I just sat sixteen hours in the Impala, okay? We're human. Plus, there's stuff I gotta do."

"What stuff?"

"Eat, for example. In this case, sleep. I just need like four hours once in a while, okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so, you can pop in tomorrow morning. Give Harry a couple extra hours, though. He needs more sleep than me."

"Yes. I'll just-"

Dean didn't wait to hear more and hung up.

"-Wait here, then" Castiel frowned as he heard the dial tone.

Dean turned to see Harry as he was exiting the bathroom, rubbing a towel vigorously over his wet hair.

He gave him a brief smile when he looked up.

"Dinner?"

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The room was dark, curtains were shut to keep out any light or prying eyes.

Both men in the room had their own beds, and all was silent.

Until a phone began vibrating.

"Damn it, Cas, I need to sleep!" Dean answered without checking the caller id.

"Dean, it's me." That certainly killed any sleepiness in Dean's system.

"Sam? It's quarter past four." Dean glanced over to check on Harry, and was relieved to see him still sleeping.

"This is important."

Dean sighed and got up to get a beer from the fridge, he may as well, since he knew he wouldn't be sleeping anymore.

Dean listened as Sam told him about his dream meeting with Lucifer.

"So, you're his vessel, huh? Lucifer's wearing you to the prom?" Dean confirmed, staying calm.

"That's what he said."

"Just when you thought you were out, they pull you back in, huh, Sammy?" Dean walked to the window, opening the curtain and looking outside.

"So, that's it? That's your response?" Dean ignored the emotion he could hear in his brother's voice.

"What are you looking for?" Dean bit out gruffly.

"I don't know. A—a little panic? Maybe?" Sam seemed confused at Dean's reaction.

"I guess I'm a little numb to the earth-shattering revelations at this point." And no statement was ever truer at that moment.

"What are we gonna do about it?"

"What do you want to do about it?"

"I want back in, for starters." Dean didn't like the sound of that.

"Sam—"

"I mean it. I am sick of being a puppet to these sons of bitches. I'm gonna hunt him down,  
Dean."

"Oh, so, we're back to revenge, then, are we? Yeah, 'cause that worked out so well last time." Dean paced around the tiny kitchen area.

"Not revenge. Redemption."

"So, what, you're just gonna walk back in and we're gonna be the dynamic duo again?" Dean didn't feel like bringing Harry into the conversation at the moment.

Hopefully Bobby did as he'd asked and didn't tell Sam about him.

"Look, Dean, I can do this. I can. I'm gonna prove it to you." Dean closed his eyes in regret at what he was about to say.

"Look, Sam—it doesn't matter—whatever we do. I mean, it turns out that you and me, we're the, uh, the fire and the oil of the Armageddon. You know, on that basis alone, we should just pick a hemisphere. Stay away from each other for good." Dean sat down in the room's only chair, tiredly.

"Dean, it does not have to be like this. We can fight it." Dean could feel the emotions start to bubble at that point.

"Yeah, you're right. We can. But not together. We're not stronger when we're together, Sam. I think we're weaker. Because whatever we have between us—love, family, whatever it is—they are always gonna use it against us. And you know that. Yeah, we're better off apart. We got a better chance of dodging Lucifer and Michael and this whole damn thing, if we just go our own ways." Dean tried to end things calmly, as he leaned forward in the chair.

He looked back at Harry again, and was alarmed to see him sitting up in bed, with his knees up to his chest and arms wrapped around them. He was looking at Dean, just waiting for their conversation to be over.

"Dean, don't do this." He couldn't handle hearing his little brother pleading with him.

Avoidance it was, then.

"Bye, Sam." Dean hung up before Sam could say another word.

Silence permeated the air. Dean had closed his eyes while finishing the conversation with Sam, unable to keep eye contact with Harry as he said such things to his brother.

"How much did you hear?" He questioned quietly, looking back up at Harry.

"Enough to know that Sam and you are in a lot of trouble." Harry answered back honestly.

Usually, Dean found Harry's blunt honesty refreshing, but at the moment it was unwelcome.

"Look, it's not something you need to worry about. It's our problem, not yours." He finally looked down and leaned back against the chair.

He looked back up when he heard Harry moving from the bed.

"Dean, I'm in a strange alternate world, and you are the only one I've been able to really form some kind of connection with. If something happens to you, who will I have then?" Harry stopped in front of Dean, kneeling down, and just stared up at him.

"Come on, Harry. You don't need me. You're a damn good hunter. You'll be f-" Dean scoffed and began.

"I know I can survive, Dean. I've always survived, and I'm good at adapting. What I mean, by connection, is friendship, companionship. I- I would be hurt if something happened to you, Dean. So while it may not be my problem, these angels that want you and your brother's bodies, it does concern me. If they take your bodies how will I get to learn more about you? How will I finally meet Sam? I want to help you. I need to." Harry implored with his eyes as he spoke.

Dean nearly jerked when Harry's hand slid over his, he had been mesmerized with how ardently Harry spoke to him over his worries for him and his brother. Damn the slight man and his green eyes, and his pretty fucking voice!

"Okay, I get what you're sayin'. I do. I just don't want those winged bastards finding out about you and hurting you. We're lucky they haven't found out about you at this point. No need to push our luck, right?" Dean squeezed Harry's hand as he fought to keep control of his voice.

He didn't want to show Harry how much his words meant to him.

"I know, Dean. All I ask is that you let me help you when I can." Harry persisted.

"I hear you." Dean relented.

"Good, now if you don't mind, I'd like a bit more sleep until we head out." Harry flashed him a sweet smile, releasing his hand and moving back to his bed.

Dean just smiled at Harry's buoyant mood swing and went back to his own.

A little more sleep sounded good to him.

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Night had turned to morning, but with it, a strange turn for Dean Winchester.

Dean woke up, nothing odd there, but he knew something he was laying on was odd. He sat up and looked at his bed, the mattress was gone. He'd been lying on the springs.

Feeling a dawning sense of panic, he looked over to Harry's bed to find it empty. Part of him was glad whatever was going on had excluded his friend, while another part wanted him there so he could watch over the smaller male.

Getting up, he looked around the room; it looked run down and old. Looking out the window, he could see the rest of the city in a similar state of disarray. The sky was bleak, and grey.

"What the hell is going on?" He muttered.

Dean checked around the motel to make sure Harry really wasn't there with him, which he wasn't. He'd never quite forgiven himself for leaving the fake world of Zachariah's making, thereby abandoning Harry to a strange new world alone. So it was, feeling slightly better that Harry wasn't in the fucked up environment with him, but also a little sad for it as well, Dean left the motel.

The place wasn't much to see; all broken or graffitied on, sometimes both. The city was in ruins, and it only cemented the fact that he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be.

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Harry woke up.

At first he wasn't sure why. Then he felt it. His instincts where telling him something wasn't right. He sat up quickly, examining himself. He was fine. He looked over to check on Dean. Dean was gone. Harry leapt up from the bed, panic filling his system.

"No, no, no, no, no, no. Please don't let him be gone." Harry's voice shook, as he whispered unknowingly.

He only relaxed marginally when he saw Dean's bag in the room. Harry calmed himself after that and began his own investigation. He found the Impala outside, which was odd, but maybe Dean had gone for a walk. Asking the front desk clerk, he was troubled to discover she hadn't seen a man matching Dean's description having left.

Harry went back to their room and sat on the bed, while he organized his thoughts.

So. Right. Dean was missing, but his things weren't and neither was his car. Meaning Dean had likely been taken so quietly that Harry hadn't felt a thing. What had an ability like that, though?

The answer niggled teasingly at the edge of his mind for a few moments.

Oh. He'd met Dean through similar circumstances, hadn't he? Waking up with Dean in a place he wasn't supposed to be. Could the same angel that had placed Dean and his brother in that fake world be the one that had taken Dean again? It seemed to fit the angel's MO, at least. He supposed he should ask someone who would know, though.

"Castiel. I think something's happened to Dean." Harry stated quietly.

"You are not wrong." Harry looked to see Castiel standing in the tiny kitchen area.

"He's disappeared, but his bag and car are still here. Did an angel take him?" Harry questioned calmly.

"Yes, it is Zachariah's work." Castiel confirmed in his grave voice.

"What does he want with him? Is this about Michael and Lucifer?" Harry wondered.

"Zachariah will do anything to make Dean say yes to Michael. He has sent Dean into the future."

"The future? Why? How will that help his cause?" Harry was starting to lose some of his forced calm.

"There is likely something there he wishes Dean to see."

"He won't hurt him though, right? He won't try to force Dean to consent to hosting Michael, will he?" Harry's hands gripped the bedding at the thought.

"No, he has tried to harm Dean before. It did not change Dean's mind. As long as Dean continues to say no, Michael cannot take Dean's body as a vessel."

"So, what now? We just wait until Zachariah returns Dean?" Harry didn't like that plan.

"Yes, that is all we can do, for now."

Shit, Harry hated waiting.

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Dean was currently running. Upon leaving the city he'd heard glass breaking, and being trained to help people, he'd went to investigate.

What he'd found was a girl, with a teddy bear. At first, he'd thought she was a little girl that needed help. He was proven wrong when the little girl attacked him. Of course, other infected happened to be around the damn corner, which had led to him running.

So, he was running, and trying to find a place to run to. Eventually, he was chased onto a street blocked by a chain-link fence.

There were several soldiers on tanks that showed up, shooting the infected. Glass windows shattered. Music began playing as one of the soldiers turned on a device, uncaringly drinking from a glass bottle.

It seemed more like a party than a defense against infected people. More infected people fell as the soldiers fired their guns. They eventually left the tank and advanced, firing their weapons and making more infected people plummet to the ground.

Dean had ducked under some cover, and watched for a moment, until he'd seen enough and retreated to an alley.

He left the area through the alley as the music and gunfire graced his ears.

66666666666666666666

It was night as Dean broke through a fence. Standing up, he read the sign on the fence he'd just gone through.

CROATOAN VIRUS  
HOT ZONE  
NO ENTRY  
BY ORDER OF ACTING REGIONAL COMMAND  
AUGUST 1, 2014  
KANSAS CITY

"August first, 2014." Dean read quietly.

He'd gone into the future, fuck. Looking around he found a car, that surprisingly had fuel. As he drove, he checked his cell, but got no signal. The radio only played static.

"That's never a good sign." Dean muttered.

"Croatoan pandemic reaches Australia." A voice startled Dean.

Great, just who he wanted to see. Zachariah was sitting in the passenger seat, with a newspaper.

"I thought I smelled your stink on this Back to the Future crap." Dean growled.

"'President Palin defends bombing of Houston.' Certainly a buyer's market in real estate. Let's see what's happening in sports. That's right—no more sports. Congress revoked the right to group assembly. What's left of Congress, that is. Hardly a quorum, if you ask me." Zachariah continued as if he hadn't heard Dean.

"How did you find me?" Dean's hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"Afraid we had to tap some unorthodox resources of late—human informants. We've been making inspirational visits to the fringier Christian groups. They've been given your image, told to keep an eye out."

"The Bible freak outside the motel—he, what, dropped a dime on me?" Dean replied as gruffly as could, internally freaking out.

Shit, had someone told Zachariah about Harry being with him?

"Onward, Christian soldiers." Zachariah seemed oblivious about Dean's panic.

Well if Zachariah didn't mention Harry, he sure as hell wasn't going to.

"Okay, well, good, great. You have had your jollies. Now send me back, you son of a bitch." He was sure Harry had flipped upon noticing a missing Dean when he woke up.

He just hoped Harry didn't think he'd actually left him or something.

"Oh, you'll get back—all in good time. We want you to marinate a bit."

"Marinate?" That didn't sound good.

"Three days, Dean. Three days to see where this course of action takes you." Zachariah looked over at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fuck, three days away from Harry who was probably freaking out.

"It means that your choices have consequences. This is what happens to the world if you continue to say no to Michael. Have a little look-see." Zachariah delightedly informed, then promptly vanished.

Well shit, that sucked.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Dean arrived at Bobby's house, and entered quietly.

"Bobby? Bobby, I'm coming in!" Dean called out before entering.

It was obvious the place hadn't been taken care of for a while, it was trashed and there were spider webs and dust all over.

"Oh, no." Dean breathed as he saw Bobby's wheelchair.

It was on its side, and Dean couldn't help but set it upright. He looked at the bullet holes and dried blood on the back of the seat.

"Where is everybody, Bobby?" He whispered to himself.

Opening a hidden compartment, he pulled out his dad's journal. Inside, he found a photo of Bobby with Castiel, three unidentified men, and a sign.

"Camp Chitaqua." Dean read.

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He made it to the camp by nightfall. He approached the sign from the photo. Men with guns were just inside the fence, obviously patrolling. He was careful to stay out of sight.

He caught sight of the Impala, it was smashed up and rusted.

"Oh, baby, no." Dean whispered in sadness.

He approached the Impala to get a better look at the damage done, and peered into the driver's side door.

"Oh, no, baby, what did they do to you?" He swore.

Hearing something, he turned to look, only to feel pain explode in his head.

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Waking up with a headache wasn't fun. Dean was displeased to find he was handcuffed to a ladder. There was someone across from him, and eventually he looked at the person.

A carbon copy of himself was who he discovered sitting across from him, cleaning a gun.

"What the hell?" He questioned.

"I should be asking that question, don't you think? In fact, why don't you give me one good reason why I shouldn't gank you right here and now?" His double asked sharply.

"Because you'd only be hurting yourself." Dean figured being a smartass wouldn't really affect things.

"Very funny." His doppelganger was obviously lacking his sense of humor.

"Look, man—I'm no shapeshifter or demon or anything, okay?" He could've kicked himself for saying that clichéd line, but it was true.

"Yeah, I know. I did the drill while you were out. Silver, salt, holy water—nothing. But you know what was funny? Was that you had every hidden lock pick, box cutter, and switchblade that I carry. Now, you want to explain that? Oh, and the, uh, resemblance, while you're at it?" Well at least his double was smart.

"Zachariah." Dean figured he didn't need to say anymore.

That had obviously gotten the guy's attention, as he stood up.

"Come again?" He stared at Dean intently.

"I'm you from the tail end of 2009. Zach plucked me from my bed and threw me five years into the future." Dean informed.

"Where is he? I want to talk to him."

"I don't know." Dean wondered why anyone would want to see Zachariah.

"Oh, you don't know." His double fixed a disbelieving glare on him.

"No, I don't know. Look, I just want to get back to my own friggin' year, okay?" Plus, he was worried about how Harry was handling things, but he wisely kept quiet about the smaller man.

"Okay. If you're me, then tell me something only I would know." His double posed as a challenge.

Dean thought for a few seconds, then smirked.

"Rhonda Hurley. We were, uh, nineteen. She made us try on her panties. They were pink. And satiny. And you know what? We kind of liked it." He wasn't afraid to admit that to himself, though he'd never say that to anyone else.

"Touché. So, what, Zach zapped you up here to see how bad it gets?"

"I guess. Croatoan virus, right? That's their endgame?"

"It's efficient, it's incurable, and it's scary as hell. Turns people into monsters. Started hitting the major cities about two years ago. World really went in the crapper after that."

"What about Sam?" Dean had to know.

His double went still though, and Dean knew something bad was about to be revealed.

"Heavyweight showdown in Detroit. From what I understand, Sam didn't make it." His doubled informed with no show of emotion.

"You weren't with him?" Dean questioned.

Why wouldn't he have been there, backing Sam up?

"No. No, me and Sam, we haven't talked in—hell, five years."

"We never tried to find him?" Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"We had other people to worry about."

"Where you going?" Dean asked when he saw his double getting ready to leave.

"I got to run an errand."

"Whoa. You're just gonna leave me here?"

"Yes. I got a camp full of twitchy trauma survivors out there with an apocalypse hanging over their head. The last thing they need to see is a version of The Parent Trap. So, yeah, you stay locked down."

"Okay. All right. Fine. But you don't have to cuff me, man. Oh, come on. You don't trust yourself?" Dean tried to used humor, but he'd forgotten how serious his double seemed to be.

"No. Absolutely not."

Then he was alone.

"Dick." Dean couldn't believe how much of an asshole he turned out to be in the future.

Shrugging internally over it, he began working to pry a nail from the floorboards. When he had it, he removed his handcuffs.

Leaving the little cabin, he looked around the camp.

"Hey, Dean. You got a second?" Dean nearly freaked when Chuck called out to him.

"No—yes. Uh, I—I guess. Hi, Chuck." Fuck, he needed to calm down, lest he blow his cover.

"Hi. So, uh, listen, we're pretty good on canned goods for now, but we're down to next to nothing on perishables and—and hygiene supplies. People are not gonna be happy about this. So, what do you think we should do?"

"I—I don't know. Maybe, uh, share? You know, like at a kibbutz." Uh, well he was not doing a good job of pretending.

"Wait a minute. Aren't you supposed to be out on a mission right now?" Chuck suddenly questioned.

"Absolutely. And I will be." Dean felt panic flare in him.

"Uh-oh." Chuck quickly backed down as he looked behind Dean.

Dean barely managed to dodge as a woman tried to slug him from behind.

"Whoa! Jeez! Easy, lady!" What the hell was happening?

Dean ducked and hid behind Chuck as he looked at the woman.

"Risa." Chuck supplied for him.

"Risa?" He corrected himself.

"You spent the night in Jane's cabin last night, didn't you?" The woman angrily spat as she glared at him.

"Uh, what? I—I don't—did I?" Oh hell no, was he getting shit for his double's not-so-discreet indiscretions?

He looked at Chuck for confirmation, Chuck nodded.

"I thought we had a 'connection'." Risa air-quoted sarcastically.

"Well, I'm sure that we do." Dean tried, smiling.

"Yeah?" Risa looked disbelieving

"Hi, Risa." Chuck broke in.

"Screw you." Risa supplied as she left, causing Chuck to flinch when she passed.

"Oh, jeez. I'm getting busted for stuff I haven't even done yet." It was such bullshit.

"What?" Uh...

"Uh, never mind. Hey, Chuck, is...Cas still here?" Maybe Castiel could help.

"Yeah. I don't think Cas is going anywhere." Chuck pointed him in the right direction.

Dean went to the cabin and entered. He was surprised to find Castiel sitting in a circle with several women surrounding him.

"So, in this way. We're each a fragment of total perception—just, uh, one compartment in that dragonfly eye of group mind. Now, the key to this total, shared perception—it's, um, it's surprisingly physical." Castiel spoke.

Eventually Castiel spotted Dean and broke up the meeting.

"Oh. Excuse me, ladies. I think I need to confer with our fearless leader for a minute. Why not go get washed up for the orgy?" Dean did a double take at that.

"You're all so beautiful." He stated as he watched them leave.

When they were gone, he stood and stretched his back, grunting.

"What are you, a hippie?" Dean blurted out, still in shock from what he'd just witnessed.

"I thought you'd gotten over trying to label me."

"Cas, we got to talk." Dean tried to redirect the conversation.

"Whoa. Strange." Castiel suddenly said as he looked at Dean.

"What?"

"You...are not you. Not now you, anyway." Castiel answered.

"No! Yeah. Yes, exactly." This was what he'd wanted to see Castiel for, he would likely know what was going on.

"What year are you from?"

"2009."

"Who did this to you? Is it Zachariah?"

"Yes."

"Interesting." Interesting? That hadn't been what he'd expected to hear.

"Oh, yeah, it's friggin' fascinating. Now. Why don't you strap on your angel wings and fly me back to my page on the calendar?" Dean waved his hands about.

"I wish I could just, uh, strap on my wings, but I'm sorry, no dice." Castiel began snickering.

"What, are you stoned?" Dean stopped to really look at Castiel, as he continued to laugh quietly.

He certainly didn't look like the Castiel he knew. He had a relaxed expression on his face he normally didn't have. He was wearing different clothes that were kind of rumpled on him, too. He really did look like a hippy.

"Uh, generally, yeah." Castiel suddenly turned serious.

"What happened to you?" Dean's eyebrows rose in question.

"Life."

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Dean watched as a car and a jeep arrived at the camp. His future self climbed out with a few soldiers. He watched as his future self grabbed a beer and tossed one to one of the soldiers. They both drank some of their beers, then Dean was horrorified to see his future double pull a gun out and point it at the soldier.

"Hey. Hey! Watch out!" Dean warned.

He was stunned to see his double shoot the soldier. The other soldiers just looked between him and his future self.

"Damn it." His double cursed.

"I'm not gonna lie to you. Me and him—It's a pretty messed-up situation we got going. But believe me, when you need to know something, you will know it. Until then, we all have work to do." The future Dean addressed the soldiers.

He left them and headed towards Dean, grabbing him on the way by. Dragging him to his cabin, he shoved Dean into the room and shut the door.

"What the hell was that?" He growled at Dean.

"What the hell was that? You just shot a guy in cold blood." Dean argued back.

"We were in an open quarantine zone. Got ambushed by some Croats on the way out." Dean just looked at his future self questioningly.

"Croats. Croatoans. One of them infected Yeager." His double explained.

"How do you know?" Dean pressed.

"'Cause after a few years of this, I know. I started seeing symptoms about a half an hour ago. Wasn't gonna be long before he flipped. I didn't see the point in troubling a good man with bad news."

"'Troubling a good man'? You just blew him away in front of your own people. Don't you think that freaked them out a little bit?" Dean was still freaked over it himself.

"It's 2014. Plugging some Croat, it's called commonplace. Trading words with my friggin' clone—that might have freaked them out a little."

"All right, look—" Dean started.

"No, you look. This isn't your time. It's mine. You don't make the decisions. I do. So, when I say stay in, you stay in." His double snapped.

"All right, man. I'm sorry. Look, I—I'm not trying to mess you—me—us up here." Dean apologized.

"I know."

Dean watched as his future self poured them some alcohol.

"It's just been a really wacky weekend." Dean supplied.

"Tell me about it." Huh, maybe his double did have a sense of humor left.

They drank.

"What was the mission, anyway?"

His interest peeked when he saw his double pull the Colt from his jacket.

"The Colt?"

"The Colt." Future Dean looked smugly at him.

"Where was it?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"Everywhere. They've been moving it around. Took me five years, but...I finally got it. And tonight—tonight, I'm gonna kill the devil." His double proclaimed confidently, as he finished his alcohol.

Sadly, that's when all hell broke loose. A crack filled the air, startling both men. Dean grabbed for his gun, cursing when he remembered his double had taken all of his stuff. Future Dean was already drawing his weapon. Dean froze in temporary shock when he saw who it was.

It was Harry.

Dean was already moving toward him when the crack of his future self's gun was going off. He threw himself over Harry and push them both down. The noise settled and Dean pulled himself up to look at Harry. He knew he wasn't injured, but he wasn't sure about Harry.

"Harry? You okay?" He asked the slightly dazed wizard.

"Dean? Yeah, I'm okay."

"Who the hell is that?" Future Dean demanded.

They both looked at the future Dean, who still had his gun out, Dean noticed.  
Dean got up, helping Harry, who he instantly moved behind himself.

"This is Harry. You don't have to worry about him, he won't hurt anyone." Dean begged his future self to believe him, the last thing he needed was for Harry to get shot at again by another Dean.

He really had to stop nearly shooting Harry.

"What is he?" His double asked gruffly, causing Harry to shrink himself into his back.

It was like he was trying to merge with Dean to disappear.

"He's human. He's just got magic, and no, he's not a demon deal witch. He was actually born with it. Cas confirmed it, and I'm sure the one here can too." He glared at his double for making Harry revert to the meek composure he'd held when they first met.

He'd spent a lot of time helping break Harry out of his shell. Watching his double, who eventually nodded his reluctant acceptance, he finally turned to see Harry.

"Harry, how did you get here. Did Cas send you? Is he coming too?" Dean had to stop himself from overwhelming the smaller man with questions.

"No, I realized what'd happened after waking up and finding you gone. I found all of your things and the Impala still at the hotel, so I knew you hadn't left. I spoke with Castiel, who confirmed it was Zachariah. He said we would have to wait for you to be returned, but I- I'm sorry, I got worried." Harry answered quietly.

"Hey, I'm not mad. You should just be more careful where you pop up, you know? My future double there nearly shot you." Dean smiled down at Harry softly.

"Heh, yeah, that's starting to become a thing isn't it? I couldn't really control where I showed up though, since I was following you." Harry wrung the bottom of his shirt slightly, letting Dean know he was nervous about something.

"And how, exactly did you follow me?"

"Er, well. I may have, um, placed a tracker on you." Harry's fidgeting got worse as he practically shrunk into himself.

"A tracker?" Dean questioned, he wasn't sure if he should be mad about that or not, so he waited for Harry's answer.

"It allows me to be able to find you, no matter where you are. I'm sorry! I just couldn't stop thinking about waking up in that motel room, after we were in Zachariah's fake world, all alone. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Harry finally looked up at Dean, apologizing with his expressive eyes.

Dean couldn't help but soften at Harry's explanation and apology. It didn't seem like he could ever really stay mad for long at Harry. Something about Harry pulled at him, maybe it was because Harry knew some of the stuff he was experiencing, having the weight of the world literally thrust upon his shoulders.

"It's okay, Harry. I get it. Just wish you would've told me." Dean reached down and tugged one of Harry's hands off of his abused shirt, squeezing it lightly.

Harry relaxed and smiled up at him, then turned to examine his surroundings. Dean just let go of his hand and watched him in amusement. Harry was so curious, it wasn't really any wonder how he could find so much trouble. He looked over at his double, only to see him smirking with a knowing look at him. His double looked over at Harry, then back to him, raising an eyebrow as if to say, "Really?"

Dean just looked at his double without shame, crossing his arms. He knew how things looked between Harry and him, he wasn't stupid. He'd flirted with enough women, and a few guys, over the years to know when he was attracted to someone. He knew how much attraction was needed for him to act on it. With Harry, it was the strongest he'd ever felt. He wanted Harry, but he wanted more than just sex from him, otherwise he would've tried that already. So it wasn't just about sex, it was also about how much he enjoyed all of Harry's quirks. He felt protective of Harry, a little too protective at times, but he guarded his most cherished people fiercely, it was just his way. He was too damaged not to go overboard with his protective urges, but with Harry, he didn't question it, because Harry seemed to actually enjoy it.

For all of Dean's annoying traits, Harry seemed to flourish under his overbearing protectiveness, his way of making sure he ate and got enough sleep. Given Harry's childhood, he supposed it wasn't odd that Harry did well with Dean. It was like he wanted someone to take care of him, and Dean needed someone to watch over, he was raised that way. With Sam being an adult, he'd found himself frustrated trying to continue on as he always had, but Sam didn't want Dean to protect him anymore. Sam didn't need him to, but Harry didn't mind it, he liked it.

Maybe that wasn't the best basis for a relationship, but they were both a little fucked up, so it wasn't a big deal to Dean. He looked over at Harry, and snapped out of his musings when he saw the sad expression on Harry's face.

"Harry?" He moved to his side immediately.

He grew worried when he saw the glazed expression on Harry' face, before he remembered that Harry had a habit of doing that sometimes. He'd asked him about it once and Harry just said he could feel things with his magic.

"Hey, come on Harry, snap out of it." He took both of Harry's upper arms and turned him away from the window, towards him.

Not seeing any reaction, he snapped his fingers in front of Harry's face.

"Come back to me, now. Come on, Harry." Dean shook Harry a little, finally getting a response.

Harry's eyes livened up and he looked up at Dean, confused over why Dean was there with him, holding his arms.

"Hm? What is it Dean?" Harry asked, his eyes were still saddened.

"What's wrong?" Dean questioned, releasing Harry's arms.

"Oh. It's- the life here is dying. Even the plant life is suffering."

"That would be the virus." The two startled a bit, having forgotten they weren't alone, and looked over at the future Dean.

"Virus?" Harry looked into future Dean's eyes for the first time since arriving, and Dean smiled, glad to see not all of his hard work had been destroyed.

Dean nudged Harry over to the table, and his double moved to sit as well. He listened as future Dean explained what was going on to the lost wizard. When Harry found out about Sam, his expression turned sad. Dean had to look away from it, he still had a hard time thinking about it.

Harry was eventually informed about his double's plan to kill Lucifer, though future Dean wouldn't reveal how, it was obvious he didn't trust Harry with vital information like that. Harry didn't push though, and future Dean seemed a bit surprised at the easy acceptance.

Dean just smiled smugly at his double when he looked at him.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Night arrived and a meeting took place at the headquarters, possibly their last.

"So, that's it? That's the Colt?" Risa asked.

She didn't seem very impressed with it.

"If anything can kill Lucifer, this is it." Future Dean stated.

"Great. Have we got anything that can find Lucifer?" There was a snide edge to her voice.

"Are you okay?" Future Dean looked at Risa questioningly.

"Oh, we were in, uh, Jane's cabin last night. And, apparently, we and...Risa have a connection." Dean supplied helpfully.

He smirked when he heard Harry chuckle quietly.

"You want to shut up?" His double growled at him.

That was fine, he could do that.

"We don't have to find Lucifer. We know where he is. The demon that we caught last week, he was one of the big guy's entourage. He knew."

"So, a demon tells you where Satan's gonna be, and you just believe it?" Dean was getting annoyed with the woman.

"Oh, trust me, he wasn't lying." Future Dean didn't seem worried.

"And you know this how?" Risa persisted.

"Our fearless leader, I'm afraid, is all too well schooled in the art of getting to the truth." Castiel supplied calmly.

"Torture? Oh, so, we're—we're torturing again." Shit, and he did not want Harry knowing about that, but it was a bit late for that.

His double just looked at him.

"No, that's—that's good. Classy." Castiel laughed, earning a disgruntled look from future Dean.

"What? I like past you." Castiel wasn't bothered by his double's look in the least.

"Lucifer is here. Now. I know the block and I know the building." Future Dean redirected helpfully.

"Oh, good—it's right in the middle of a hot zone." Castiel stated.

"Crawling with Croats, yeah. You saying my plan is reckless?" Future Dean glared at Castiel.

"Are you saying we, uh, walk in straight up the driveway, past all the demons and the Croats, and we shoot the devil?" Castiel asked.

"Yes."

"Okay, if you don't like, uh, 'reckless', I could use 'insouciant', maybe."

"Are you coming?" Future Dean growled.

Castiel only sighed.

"Of course. But why is he? I mean, he's you from five years ago. If something happens to him, you're gone, right?" Castiel didn't seem really worried about him, even though he was asking.

"He's coming." Future Dean stated.

"Okay. Well, uh. I'll get the grunts moving."

"We're loaded and on the road by midnight." Future Dean informed.

"All righty."

Castiel and Risa left.

"Why are you taking me?" Dean asked in curiosity.

"Relax. You'll be fine. Zach's looking after you, right?" His double answered nonchalantly.

"No, that's not what I mean. I want to know what's going on."

"Yeah, okay. You're coming because I want you to see something. I want you to see our brother." Future Dean was calm as he spoke of Sam.

"Sam? I thought he was dead." Dean felt his stomach twist.

Surely his double wasn't saying what he thought he was?

"Sam didn't die in Detroit. He said yes." Future Dean confirmed.

"Yes?" Dean choked out.

A long silence.

"Wait. You mean—"

"That's right. The big yes. To the devil. Lucifer's wearing him to the prom." Future Dean stated grimly.

"Why would he do that?" Dean questioned, confused.

"Wish I knew. But now we don't have a choice. It's in him, and it's not getting out. And we've got to kill him, Dean. And you need to see it—the whole damn thing, how bad it gets—so you can do it different."

"What do you mean?"

"Zach said he was gonna bring you back, right? To oh-nine?"

"Yeah."

"Well, when you get back home—you say yes. You hear me? Say yes to Michael." His double told him.

"NO!"

Both Deans turned in surprise to see Harry glaring at future Dean. They'd both forgotten he was there.

"No?" Future Dean asked.

"Dean isn't saying yes to Michael." Harry stated, as if it was a fact and not a possibility.

"He will if he wants to avoid all this." His double growled.

Future Dean moved around him and into Harry's space, making Dean move to intervene, his protective streak rearing its head. He stopped when Harry's hand motioned for him to halt.

Harry had never done that before.

"For all we know this could be another fake world of Zachariah's. How do we know this is the definite outcome? This could just be an alternate future. Having Dean say yes to Michael based purely on the possibility of this being the outcome of his refusal isn't good enough." Harry's reasoning stopped both Dean's and had them thinking for a moment.

After a thoughtful silence future Dean regrouped to continue the argument.

"So you'd risk the future of the world based on a what if? Why? So you can try to get into his pants?" Future Dean snapped cruelly.

Dean nearly jumped his double at the hard flinch that went through Harry, but he was too surprised at Harry's reaction to even move. The temperature in the room dropped and icicles formed in some areas, as Harry's eyes took on such a cold and hard look, even future Dean backed up slightly.

"What I feel for Dean Winchester isn't something as simple as physical attraction. He has a lot of flaws, it's true, but what person doesn't? I don't mind them. He's protected me, and looked out for me. He flirts with practically anything on legs, but I know that he doesn't really mean it, because he treats me far better. He respects me, and he hasn't once tried to start a physical relationship with me. While it's true that I would have sex with Dean, it's only because I know he wouldn't hurt me. I love him." Harry passionately and heatedly spoke as he continued staring coldly at future Dean.

Dean's breath caught at Harry's admission, only to stop breathing altogether as Harry looked to him, eyes softening slightly.

"I love you, and you aren't saying yes to Michael. I won't let you." Harry's voice carried strong command in it, making a shiver race down Dean's spine.

Dean couldn't speak, and only managed to give a shaky nod in compliance to Harry's commanding figure. He'd never seen Harry act in such a way, but he suddenly saw how he'd survived a war long enough to sacrifice himself at such a young age.

Harry just nodded in satisfaction and left the headquarters, the ice rapidly diminishing once he was gone.

Dean let out a shaky breath, and heard his double release one of his own.

"I take it you've never seen him like that?" His double asked eventually.

"No, never."

Silence.

"You wouldn't have said yes anyways, even without Harry in your life. 'Cause I didn't. Because that's just not us, is it?"

And it wasn't.

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Harry had distanced himself a bit from the two Dean's after his emotional explosion. He'd let his magic slip, and that was never a good thing. He figured it'd be best if he tried to keep a clear head.

He'd need it if he wanted to accomplish what he had in mind. He hadn't mentioned it, because he didn't want to get anyone's hopes up if it didn't work, but if it did...

Well, first he needed to concentrate. He sat a bit away from everyone, only partially hearing them so he'd know what the plan was. The other part of his attention was focused on bringing up memories from Hermione's research. After his possession in fifth year, Hermione had thrown herself into research to see if there was anyway for Harry to be able to protect himself from another instance like that.

She'd found a spell eventually, but it was only for someone already possessed, not preventing it. After further research, she'd found a charm that could be placed on items that prevented it, which Harry was wearing at the moment. It was a small invisible band around his wrist, irremovable by anyone but himself. The spell for removing possession was what he needed to recall though, so he sat and meditated, bringing the memory forth in his mind and studying it.

He'd never had to perform the spell, but it didn’t seem too difficult. It did require a lot of energy though, and given who he was going to attempt exercising, he wasn't sure he'd have the power to do it.

For Dean and Sam, he would try.

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"So, you're really from oh-nine?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah, afraid so." Dean replied good naturedly.

"Some free advice? You ever get back there, you hoard toilet paper. You understand me? Hoard it. Hoard it like it's made of gold. 'Cause it is." Chuck insisted.

"Thank you, Chuck." Dean chuckled.

"Oh, you'll thank me, all right. Mark my words." Chuck was solemn as he said that.

"I'll see you around." Dean said as he looked for Harry.

He saw him sitting on the ground, by himself. He seemed to be, meditating?

"Yeah. Okay." Dean nodded at Chuck's reply and approached Harry.

"Ready to go?" He asked quietly, not wanting to startle the man.

"Yes." Harry's relaxed body gracefully rose up, and he turned to look at Dean.

"Alright?" Dean asked, though he could see Harry looked oddly serene.

"I am." Harry nodded and smiled softly at him, making his stomach flutter a bit.

The pair moved to the vehicles and got into one.

The cars left.

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Harry sat in the back, while Dean rode in the front as Castiel drove. He watched quietly as Castiel took a few pills.

"Let me see those." Dean didn't look happy about Castiel taking them.

"You want some?" Castiel offered calmly.

"Amphetamines?" Dean questioned with some concern.

He knew it was just Dean's protective streak showing itself, and smiled a bit, looking out the window.

"It's the perfect antidote to that absinthe." Castiel informed.

"Mmm. Don't get me wrong, Cas. I, uh. I'm happy that the stick is out of your ass, but—what's going on—w-with the drugs and the orgies and the love-guru crap?" Dean scowled when Castiel only laughed at him.

"What's so funny?"

"Dean, I'm not an angel anymore." That grabbed both passengers attention.

"What?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, I went mortal."

"What do you mean? How?" A very good question.

"I think it had something to do with the other angels leaving. But when they bailed, my mojo just kind of— psshhew!—drained away. And now, you know, I'm practically human. I mean, Dean, I'm all but useless. Last year, broke my foot, laid up for two months." Well that sucked.

"Wow." Wow indeed.

"Yeah."

"So, you're human. Well, welcome to the club." Harry just shook his head at Dean, though no one could see it.

"Thanks. Except I used to belong to a much better club. And now I'm powerless. I'm hapless, I'm hopeless. I mean, why the hell not bury myself in women and decadence, right? It's the end, baby. That's what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out? But then, that's just how I roll."

No one said anything to that. What could they?

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Upon arriving at the hot scene, everyone began scanning the area.

"There. Second-floor window. We go in there." Future Dean decided.

"You sure about this?" Risa asked skeptically.

"They'll never see us coming. Trust me. Now, weapons check. We're on the move in five." Future Dean commanded.

"Hey, uh, me. Can I talk to you for a sec?" Dean asked future Dean, and Harry wanted to do that himself.

Harry watched as the two moved to speak privately. He had a bit of a bad feeling about what was going on, so he discreetly cast a listening charm to hear what the two were saying.

"Tell me what's going on." Dean demanded.

"What?" Future Dean seemed surprised, but Dean certainly didn't seem to be buying it, so neither did Harry.

"I know you. You're lying to these people and to me."

"Is that so."

"Yeah. See, I know your lying expressions. I've seen them in the mirror. Now, there's something you're not telling us." Good to know, he still wasn't familiar with all of Dean's facial expressions.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, really? Well, I don't seem to be the only member of your posse with some questions, so, uh, maybe I'll just take my doubts over to them."

"Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait."

"What?"

"Take a look around you, man. This place should be white-hot with Croats. Where are they?"

"They cleared a path for us. Which means that this is—"

"A trap. Exactly." Figures.

"Well, then we can't go through the front."

"Oh, we're not. They are. They're the decoys. You and me, we're going in through the back." Harry nearly gasped at the callous way future Dean spoke of human life.

"You mean you're gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas, too? You want to use their deaths as a diversion?" Dean seemed just a shocked as Harry, which had Harry relaxing a bit.

Silence.

"Oh, man, something is broken in you. You're making decisions that I would never make. I wouldn't sacrifice my friends." Harry felt sadness well in him at how accurate Dean's assessment of future Dean was.

"You're right. You wouldn't. It's one of the main reasons we're in this mess, actually." Future Dean snapped.

"These people count on you. They trust you."

"They trust me to kill the devil and to save the world and that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

"No. Not like this, you're not. I'm not gonna let you."

"Oh, really?" Harry tensed at the challenge in future Dean's voice.

"Yeah."

Harry gasped as he heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh and looked over to see Dean fall to ground, knocked unconscious from future Dean's punch. Future Dean merely looked over at him, practically daring him to do something. Harry felt his shock fade into anger at the future version of the man he loved, then it was replaced with worry when Dean didn’t move.

Ignoring the future counterpart, he rushed to Dean's side, checking his head for major damage. Harry briefly looked up when everyone left. Harry knew he needed to help Dean first, only then could they, hopefully, save the others. Harry was almost tempted to let future Dean deal with Lucifer on his own, but there was the possibility that he would end up killing Lucifer, killing Sam in the process. No matter how much of an asshole future Dean was being, he couldn't let that affect his decision to help Sam. Sam didn’t deserve to be trapped like that.

Healing Dean's head, he cast an enervate and watched as Dean woke up.

"Wha-?" Dean asked in confusion.

"Shh, easy. You were knocked out." Harry eased, as he stroked Dean's hair soothingly.

"That bastard! He punched me!!" Dean yelled suddenly and shot up, only being restrained by Harry, who pushed him back.

"Easy, get your bearings first." Harry waited for Dean to calm down, then let him get up.

"Where are the others?" Dean asked frantically when he noticed they were alone.

"They left. You've only been out for a few minutes. I didn't want your oh-so-charming-doppelganger knowing I could heal you so quickly. If we hurry we might be able to save the others." Harry rushed.

Dean simply nodded and they took off, going to help Castiel and the others first. They ran to the building where future Dean had sent the others and entered cautiously. Hearing gunfire, they moved a bit quicker.

Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, a couple people were already dead, but Castiel was still alive. Harry and Dean wasted no time in helping take out the enemy forces, Harry's magic proving deadly against his foes. When their opponents were dead, Harry rushed to Dean, gaining his attention.

"Come on, it might not be too late." Harry tugged Dean, who soon caught on and ran with him to the garden where a showdown was occurring.

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Dean and Harry had decided to enter the garden at different angles, though Dean wasn't sure why, as it was Harry's idea. He just knew that Harry didn’t do things without a reason, and there was no time to question it.

Entering the garden, thunder rumbled suddenly and a flash of lightening occurred. He froze when he saw his double on the ground, his neck being held down by someone wearing a white shoe. Their eyes locked, and just as Dean knew his future self's life was about to be snuffed out, future Dean slid out from under the foot.

The man, who Dean distantly knew was Sam, but couldn't face that fact at the moment, stumbled slightly.

Everyone looked over to see future Dean on the ground, having slid, in front of Harry, who was gazing calmly at Lucifer.

"Harry Potter?" Sam's voice permeated the air, and Dean wanted nothing more than to punch the imposter wearing his brother's skin.

"That's right." Harry stated calmly, and it was only then that Dean noticed Harry's hands were glowing a bright white.

Lucifer didn’t get a chance to reply as a pop filled the air and suddenly Harry was behind Lucifer, jumping on his back and latching onto his face with his hands. His glowing hands made contact with Sam's flesh and a scream of pure pain filled the air in Sam's voice. Lucifer tried to remove Harry from himself, dropping down and slamming Harry into the ground, a boom of energy blowing out from the pair.

Dean screamed in fear for Harry, but had to cover his eyes from the bright light emitting from the pair. It seemed to last forever, the loud scream, that soon had two sounds coming from the same body. The second voice grew shrill and Dean covered his ears, the gas station flashing briefly in his mind, making him realize that he was hearing Lucifer's scream.

A hard ripple of energy sent Dean flying off his feet, throwing him into some bushes, as a loud rumble filled the air.

Then it was silent.

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Harry nearly collapsed in exhaustion, but he had to confirm that the spell had worked. He rolled the huge body off of him, arms shaking with the effort, and looked at Sam, who immediately curled into a shivering ball.

Harry felt his heart break for the man and moved to comfort him.

"Sam, he's gone now. He can't get to you anymore." Harry soothed and lightly brushed his hand over Sam's perfectly kept hair.

His only response was a whimper and the head moving away from his hand. Harry sighed, knowing what he had to do, and placed a hand once more on Sam. Sam tried to move away, but Harry only needed a second to cast a sleeping spell on Sam. Sam went still immediately.

"What did you do to him?!" Harry glanced over in surprise, having nearly forgotten the others.

"He's fine, just sleeping. He seemed too distressed, and he likely needs some proper rest." Harry replied to future Dean, even though he was still angry with him over what he'd done to Dean.

"We should go, I don't like being here. I feel restless." Harry spoke as he got up slowly, making sure he wasn't too exhausted.

He smiled when Dean was suddenly there, hovering like he wanted to pick him up and carry him back to the camp himself. He waved his hand at Sam's body and heard dual gasps as Sam suddenly floated in the air like he weighed nothing.

"What are you-?" Future Dean began, only to be cut off by Harry.

"Levitation spell, easier to get him back to the car, don't you think?" Harry answered brusquely, as he began heading towards the cars.

Dean moved next to him after informing his future counterpart that some of the others were alive.

Future Dean didn't say anything to that, or anything at all on the return trip.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Harry had a trick up his sleeve for old Lucy. Let me know what you think. If you just want me to update, don't bother to review, I already know people want me to update this story. If you have other stuff to tell me, however, I'd be glad to read about that in a review or pm.
> 
> Thanks guys and gals,  
>  Angelwarrior1


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

Dean's head was swirling. He didn't know what to think about what he'd seen. Harry; shy, meek, small Harry had just kicked the devil's ass and sent him packing. He didn’t know where Lucifer was, but he'd get his answer eventually. At the moment they were getting Sam settled into a bed, Harry had transfigured the couch into one and lengthened it due to Sam's height, which made Dean smile.

If he hadn't been in love with Harry before, he certainly was then at that moment. Sweet, thoughtful, brave Harry, looking out for his brother when even he couldn't. Harry had kicked the other Dean out, stating that he was lucky he didn't curse the git for what he'd done to Dean.

So it was just them, and a sleeping Sam, as Harry cast a few spells to monitor him, in case he woke up while no one was around.

"Come on." Harry turned to Dean, surprising him.

"What? Where are we going?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam.

"I want to show you something. Don't worry, Sam shouldn't wake up for a while, and if he does, the spell will let me know." Harry took his hand and waited for his decision.

Dean eventually nodded and Harry tugged him by the hand outside. They walked for a few minutes in silence until they reached a small area and Harry stopped. Dean looked around, wondering what they were doing there. When he didn’t notice anything, he turned to look at Harry.

"Why are we here?"

"Remember how I said the plant life is dying?"

Dean nodded.

"When I felt further with my magic, I discovered that the plants are dying due to the taint seeping into the earth from the infected." Harry informed.

"So what'll happen to people who grow crops to survive?" Dean frowned in concern.

"They'll likely get sick. Your future counterpart either realized this or he didn't think about growing food, but it's actually better that he went with packaged food." Harry sat down and looked at what seemed like tiny sprouts.

Dean joined him on the ground, careful not to sit on any of the tiny growing plants.

"What are they?"

"Crops I planted. Upon discovering the taint in the earth, I decided to purify the area and plant a few vegetables." Harry smiled at his tiny plants and stroked a few of them softly, making Dean smile, and squirm a bit in discomfort as he watched Harry's slender fingers.

"So they'll be safe to eat?" Dean tried to distract himself from his thoughts.

"Yes. I put as much power as I could into the spell, so the ground should stay pure for many years to come. I'll give the plants a jumpstart on growing, so they shouldn't take as long to grow to get the first harvest."

"Jumpstart? Like, with your magic?" Dean asked in wonder.

"Mmhmm. You wanna see?" Harry asked shyly.

Dean wanted to kiss Harry in that moment for his shy demeanor and coy look. He knew Harry didn't realize how gorgeous he looked, peeking up at him through his lashes, and that only made it more appealing.

"Yeah. I do." Dean smirked at Harry, making him blush admirably.

Harry nodded and closed his eyes holding his hands over the plants. His hands began to glow, and soon the plants seemed to perk up, swaying towards the glowing energy in Harry's hands. Dean watched in amazement as the plants literally grew a tiny bit before his eyes. Dean looked up to see Harry, and nearly gasped at the beauty he saw. Harry was glowing lightly, his face calm and relaxed with his eyes closed, and a lovely smile of happiness on his face. Dean just continued to watch Harry until he finished giving energy to the plants.

When Harry was finally done, he opened his eyes.

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When Harry opened his eyes, he nearly gasped in shock. Dean was staring at him so intently, and Harry wasn't sure what the look in his eyes meant, but he felt heat sweep across his body from it.

"Dean?" Harry licked his lips nervously as he asked tentatively.

Harry watched Dean's eyes move to his mouth and felt the heat in his body intensify, pooling in his lower stomach. His breathing picked up and that just seemed to encourage Dean as he slowly moved around the plants and came to his side. He leaned into his space, never breaking eye contact. When Harry didn't move away or protest, he leaned down and kissed him for the first time since the fake world they'd originally met in.

It began softly, but eventually picked up in speed until Dean was licking all throughout his mouth, as if he were trying to steal Harry's breath. They broke apart after they couldn't go with lack of air for any longer.

"Dean." Harry gasped for breath.

"Harry." Dean growled back, just as breathless, then moved back into the kiss.

Harry found himself pulled into Dean's arms, and suddenly he was laying on top of Dean. Harry moaned in surprise as Dean's hand began roaming through Harry's hair, over his back, dragging his hands heavily over his muscles. Harry moaned in pleasure at the feeling, and Dean rumbled a moan and moved his hands lower to firmly grab his ass.

Harry gasped, then moaned at the feeling.

"Dean." Harry breathed into Dean's mouth.

Dean only rolled them over in response, pressing his body onto Harry, making him groan out at the feeling.

Harry felt a thrill run through him at the feeling of Dean's heavy body laying on top of him, and ran his own hands up under Dean's jacket.

"I fucking want you so bad. Been driving me crazy. With your damn green eyes, your fucking pretty voice." Harry gasped as Dean began whispering into his ear.

"Then have me Dean. I won't stop you. I want you too." Harry shivered when Dean just nipped his ear at his answer and ground down on his groin with his own.

"Fuck. I'd do it too, but I want you on a bed Harry. I want you on a bed so I can lay you back and do all the things I've been thinking about doing to you since we met." Dean took deep breaths in Harry's neck, in an effort to calm down.

"Well, there's a bed in your future self's cabin." Harry suggested quietly, ready for Dean to reject it.

"You'd have sex with me in a future version of my self’s bed?" Dean popped his head up from Harry's neck and looked at him in surprise.

"Yes." Harry blushed and nodded.

"That. Should. Not. Be. So. Sexy." Dean growled in between sucking kisses on Harry's neck.

"I really would, you know." Harry closed his eyes and waited for Dean's reaction.

"What, you mean for real? You wanna go have sex right now?" Dean looked at Harry skeptically.

"I will, if you want to. I can put silencing charms up in the room, so we won't have to worry about anyone hearing. A simple locking charm will take care of any possible interruptions." Harry explained, while he tried to calm his racing heart.

He couldn't believe he was actually suggesting what he was, and apparently Dean was just as shocked.

"You'd really want to do that here? We can always wait until we're back, in a nicer bed, Harry." Dean suggested softly, running his hand through Harry's hair.

"Everything is so hectic there right now, we may not get another chance for a while. I don't want to wait anymore Dean. I love you. I want this. It doesn't have to be perfect, and I don't expect it to." Harry placed his hand on Dean's face as he spoke, running his fingers lightly over some of his features.

"I want this too. Alright. Come on." Dean got up and helped Harry.

The two walked hand in hand back into the cabin.

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Dean led Harry into his future self's tiny bedroom, watching as Harry waved his hands, casting spells as he said he would.

He was finally here with Harry, about to see him naked, touch him. He never imagined the outcome when he'd first met Harry. When he'd lost him, he'd thought that was the end of it. Instead, Harry had shown back up into his life when he was feeling so hurt from the betrayal of his brother he'd have rather of been alone. He was glad Harry wouldn't let him be, though.

Seeing Harry turn to him when he was finished with the spells, Dean took Harry's hand and led him to the small bed. It was just a twin, but they'd make it work. The pair sat down, facing each other. Harry blushed when Dean started running his thumb over his hand.

"You sure about this, Harry? I got a lot of baggage. I can be an asshole sometimes, as my future self's shown. I'm annoying, and I can't help but flirt with women. I'm over protective. I'm-" Dean couldn't seem to shut up, it was like he was trying to sabotage himself.

Luckily, Harry was fucking brilliant and just used his mouth to shut him up.

"I don't care." Harry breathed into his mouth.

"I like your over protectiveness." Harry stared up at him, as he ran his hands over his clothed chest.

"I don't mind if you flirt with others, because you always do so much better with me." Harry whispered as he began kissing down his jaw line.

"I have baggage too, so that's not a big deal to me." Harry pushed his jacket from his shoulders.

"And if you're an asshole, I'll just punish you." Harry promised darkly in his ear, making him shudder.

Dean lost it and flipped Harry back onto the bed, leaning over him.

"Just who is seducing who here? Fucking tease." Dean growled and kissed Harry roughly, reminding Harry of their first kiss back in the fake world.

Harry just moaned and opened his mouth, inviting Dean inside. Dean thrust his tongue in, sweeping thoroughly throughout the cavern of his mouth. Harry just moaned appreciately and began trying to remove some of Dean's layers.

He chuckled against Harry's mouth when Harry made a frustrated noise, having trouble with his many shirts. He quickly sat up, smirking when he heard Harry whimper as he sat on his groin, and began expertly peeling his numerous shirts off. When he tugged the last one off, he sat back, letting Harry look his fill.

He knew that Harry had never had sex. Harry was way too shy to have done so, and when he'd kissed him back in Zachariah's made up world, he could feel Harry's inexperience, which had puzzled him at the time. He didn't mind it though, it actually just turned him on more, knowing he'd be the first. If he had his way he'd be the last, too.

Harry ran his hands all over his chest, eyes drinking in every piece of skin, the good and bad. He had a lot of scars, but Harry gave all of his skin equal attention. Finally, he looked up at Dean, his pupils blown wide in lust.

"You're beautiful, Dean." And what could he say to such earnest honesty?

He leaned down and kissed Harry softly, then helped him remove his shirts. Harry wouldn't meet Dean's eyes once his chest was bare, and he knew Harry was self conscious. Harry had fair skin, and he did have plenty of his own scars. He was skinny, with very little muscle mass, and Dean understood why Harry would likely be self conscious.

"You, Harry, are gorgeous." Dean leaned down and kissed at Harry's chest.

"I'm not, you don't have to lie, Dean." Harry whispered softly, disbelief in his voice.

"You are to me. Your voice, your eyes, your lips, your nose. Fuck, I don't think there's a thing on your body I don't find a turn on." Dean whispered ardently as he moved to kiss all over Harry's face, worshipping the features he'd mentioned.

"Dean. Make me yours." Harry finally sighed warmly, with his eyes closed.

"Make you mine? Is that what you wanna be? Mine?" Dean felt his arousal flare up at Harry's words.

"Yes, Dean. Yours. Only yours." Harry suddenly pulled him down to kiss him hungrily.

"Okay, sweetheart." Dean smirked when he noticed the reaction he'd gotten with the endearment.

Apparently Harry had a thing for some sweet talking.

Dean sat back up and began removing his belt slowly.

"What is it doll face? Hm?" Harry reminded him of a doll at times, with how fragile he seemed.

Harry panted as he watched him remove his belt and unzipped his pants, opening the folds slowly.

"Dean." Harry breathed, and reached for the bulge in the opening.

"Ah ah ah. You want my cock? You gotta ask for it. Real sweet like. With that pretty fucking voice of yours." He watched Harry's breathing hitch as he spoke to him.

"Dean, may I- can I touch it?" Harry's face blush prettily as he reached his hand out again, but Dean grabbed it and held it down on his thigh.

"Touch what, sweetheart?" He wanted to hear Harry's voice caress that word.

"You-your cock. Please?" Shit that sounded good.

"You mean this? This what you wanted, Sweetness?" Dean took the captive hand and placed it over his bulge, smirking at Harry's soft gasp.

"Ye-yes."

"Mmm, that's good, Lovely. You pretty little hand on my cock. Maybe I'll just keep it here, huh? Make it available to me all the time. Just have it wrapped around my dick and keep it warm. Would you like that, Sweetheart?" He rolled his hips into the hand and onto Harry's erection.

"Yes. Yes, Dean." Harry's eyes fluttered and he panted for breath.

"But you know what I think is probably better? Your cock. Let me see it, Harry." Dean panted out, fuck he was losing it, seeing Harry like that.

Dean moved off of Harry, as Harry fumbled with his own belt, before finally getting it open. Dean removed the rest of his clothes, then helped Harry take his off. When they were both completely naked, he drank in the sight before him, as he knew Harry was doing with him.

All of Harry was compact and petit, and Dean found it compelling and arousing. His cock average in length and thin, but he found it pretty too.

"I knew you'd have a pretty cock." Dean growled as he slid onto the bed and licked a long strip up the underside of Harry's cock, making him arch up in surprise.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you? Has anybody ever licked this pretty dick before? Hmm?" He pondered, even though he knew the answer.

He just wanted to hear Harry say it.

"N-no."

"So, I'm your first, Sweetness?" He smirked as he felt Harry's breath catch when he took the head into his mouth.

"Yes."

"You a virgin, Sweetheart?"

"Yes."

"Mmm." Dean moaned in satisfaction as he continued to lave attention to Harry's cock.

Eventually, Harry was moaning and sighing softly, off in a world of pleasure. Dean smiled, looking up at Harry's blissed out face. He wondered what he'd look like with his cock in Harry's ass. Dean was eager to find out. Planting a parting kiss onto the pretty cock, he moved up and kissed Harry softly back from his little headspace.

"Turn over, Pretty." Dean whispered, and Harry nodded.

He helped Harry turn over and put the bed's pillow under Harry's hips. Harry tried to twist to look back at Dean, but Dean just lightly smacked his bottom, making him jump.

"Uh uh, just relax, Sweetheart. Gonna make you feel good." He leaned down and began kissing down Harry's back, running his tongue along his spine.

"Mmm." Harry sighed in contentment, making him smile in pride.

"You have such a pretty ass, Sweetness, you know that?" Dean asked as he bit one cheek lightly.

A long groan was his answer, nearly making him chuckle.

"You think your tight little ass can take my cock, Pretty?" Dean spread the cheeks as he asked.

"Yes." Harry's body shivered.

"Yeah? Your tight little virgin hole gonna take my dick?" He swiped his tongue over Harry's hole, and had to hold Harry down, as he jumped up in surprise and pleasure.

"Dean!" Harry gasped.

"That's right, Sweetheart, you call my name." He growled, liking the way it sounded coming from Harry.

He spit on one of his fingers, since he didn't have lube on him, and slowly inserted it into the tight hole, while he continued working his tongue around it. He felt Harry tense up a bit, and rubbed up Harry's back soothingly with his other hand.

"Don't tense up, Sweetness, gotta relax, don't wanna hurt you." Dean soothed.

"I don't have lube, so I'm gonna loosen you on my tongue, okay?" He looked up and saw Harry nod, then went back to getting Harry ready.

After a while, Dean had three of his fingers working, and he knew that Harry was as ready as he could make him.

"On your knees, Pretty, it's easier on you this way." Dean started to help Harry up, but was surprised when he flipped onto his back instead.

"I want to you see, Dean." Harry stated.

"But it'll hurt more for you, Sweetheart." Dean tried to reason, but Harry just shook his head.

"I don't care, I need to see your face. Please, Dean." Harry wrapped his legs around Dean, pulling him forward a bit.

"Okay, alright." Dean moved forward, and slowly began pressing his cock into Harry's hole.

"Shit." Dean grit his teeth at the tight pressure around his cock.

It was like sticking his dick into a vacuum, or at least it felt like it.

"Dean." Harry's hands gripped his shoulders.

"You okay, Harry?" Dean stayed still once the head of his cock was in.

"Yeah, yes. Just-I need a moment." Harry panted out.

Dean held himself still, unwilling to ruin Harry's first time by being selfish. He concentrated on getting his breathing under control. He looked up when he felt Harry start to squirm a bit.

"Harry?"

"More, Dean. Come on." Harry urged.

"Yeah, I'll give you more." Dean leaned forward and placed his hand on either side of Harry's head and slowly pushed in more.

He stopped every couple of pushes, letting Harry adjust, until he was finally all the way in. The pair panted for breath and stayed still.

"Dean." Dean looked down into Harry's eyes.

"I love you." His gut tightened in arousal at the statement.

"Love you too, Baby." Dean admitted as he kissed Harry gently, then pulled back at the full body shiver Harry gave off.

Apparently that word was magic.

"You want me to fuck you now, Baby? Shove my cock into you over and over until you can't walk straight?" Dean whispered into Harry's ear, as he pulled out slowly, then pushed back in.

"Mmm, yes. Yes, Dean." Harry's arms wrapped around his neck, and he buried his head there.

"You gonna ask me with your pretty voice? Huh? All sweet and shy like I fucking love?" Dean's pace picked up slightly, excited by his own words.

"Please, Dean. Please go faster." Harry whimpered, just as excited by Dean's words.

"Uh uh, not good enough, Sweetheart. Wanna hear you say those dirty words in that sweet voice of yours. Gonna get it all filthy, have you say things you've never said before." He grunted as he moved a little faster, but not the way he knew Harry wanted him to.

"Plea-Please, shove your co-cock into me over and over until I can't walk straight!" Harry suddenly pleaded, overcome with the burning arousal of Dean's words.

"Fuck yeah, I will, Baby." And Dean finally started thrusting like he knew Harry wanted him to.

"Harder! Dean!" Harry's head tossed back in bliss.

His thrusts picked up as hard as he could, so hard Harry started sliding up the bed a bit, causing him to lay fully onto Harry. He wrapped his arms under Harry's shoulders, and held him close as he fucked him as hard as he could, Harry nearly shrieking when he managed to find his prostate.

Keeping that angle, he leaned down to whisper filthy things into Harry's eager ears.

"You feel that, Baby? My cock slamming into you like that? You're fucking mine now, Sweetheart. So fucking pretty. Was thinking of fucking your brains out when we were in that fake ass world. Thought about coming home to you and taking you in that bed we were in. You smelled so good that morning, tasted good too. Didn't wanna give you up. Fucking hurt like hell, thinking you weren't real. Never letting you fucking go. You hear me? You're mine!" Dean muttered into Harry's ear while his brutal pace continued.

Harry was practically sobbing at that point.

"Yours! I'm you-yours!" Harry managed to stutter out.

"Fucking right you are, Baby!" Dean pounded into Harry's prostate over and over, until finally, Harry's body arched up under his, as much as it could with his own holding it down, and shook violently.

"UUUUGGGHHH! DEAANNN!" Harry shouted in sobs, overwhelmed by the force of his orgasm.

Dean followed when Harry's hole strangled his dick, though he did manage to pull out at the last moment, and came on Harry's stomach. He collapsed onto Harry, though he made sure the smaller man could breath, then caught his breath.

When their breathing slowed down, Dean rolled to the side of Harry and propped his head up, looking at his sated and blissed out face.

"We made a mess." He smirked as he looked at their seed on Harry's stomach.

Harry simply waved a hand in response and the mess was gone.

"Fuck, I love your magic." Dean breathed in awe.

Harry's breath hitched and another body shiver occurred, signaling that Harry found that arousing, but something else happened as well. Dean felt something warm and tingling sweep over him, almost like a caress.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked as he shivered at the feeling.

"Apparently, you just made my magic fall in love with you as well, Dean."

"Huh?"

"No one's ever said they loved my magic before, other than me. The Dursley's said it was unnatural, called me a freak because of it. Whenever I'd display some odd ability at Hogwarts, the students would sometimes grow to be afraid or hateful about it." Harry whispered quietly.

"Then they were idiots. You're too kind hearted to be someone for them to be afraid of." Dean stated seriously as he kissed Harry's forehead.

Harry rolled over into his body, hugging him.

"Thank you, Dean. I love you."

"Love you too, Harry." Dean hugged Harry's slighter frame to his larger one.


	11. Chapter 10

The pair didn't have long to rest, as they heard the main door of the cabin slam shut, and future Dean's voice calling for them.

The two scrambled up and started trying to get dressed in a flurry of movement. Their actions became rather frantic the more future Dean's voice rose, and soon another voice joined in, though it seemed to be fearful.

Harry tried to rush out the door, once he heard Sam's fear, but given that he'd only managed to get his underwear on, Dean stopped him.

"You finish up here, I'll go see what he wants." Dean zipped up his fly and didn't bother grabbing a shirt as he rushed out in just his jeans.

"What the hell do you want? And why are you yelling, you're scaring Sammy." Dean glared at his much colder double, who didn't seem to know how to react to his brother anymore.

"Did you two have fucking sex in my bed?!" Future Dean snarled when he saw how rumpled Dean looked.

"Someone had to, now keep it down." Dean glared at his double and looked to Sam.

"Sammy? Hey Sammy, come on now, it's okay. You're safe here." Dean tried to calm his frightened brother down, who was cowering on the floor next to the couch in a giant ball.

It was so odd seeing him in such immaculate clothing, but acting so childlike. Dean attempted reaching out to Sam, but Sam freaked at the first touch and started yelling and flailing his arms.

Dean backed up and was just about to try something else, when Harry rushed out in a flash of pale skin. Apparently he'd only managed to snag one of Dean's many shirts, as he wasn't wearing pants, just his underwear. A quick look at the room showed his jeans dragged across the floor, as if he'd left them in a hurry to get to Sam.

He was rather stunned when he saw Harry effectively calm Sam pretty quickly.

"He's gone Sam. He can't reach you anymore. I promise." Harry soothed, touching Sam's hair and back lightly, as he sat next him.

Sam just tucked his face into Harry's neck, whimpers and shivers his only response.

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Dean was worried.

His concerns kept drifting to different subjects, Sam being his main one, but also Zachariah. It was obvious the angel had wanted him to see Lucifer wearing Sam's skin. He'd wanted Dean to know that there was no choice, and that saying yes to Michael was his only real option. Harry had changed things, though, and Dean was wondering when Zachariah would start asking questions about that.

Sam was another issue entirely. He hadn't changed since letting Harry comfort him, and he hadn't let Harry do much. Sam was skittish of everyone, and Dean felt like a failure for not being able to ease his little brother's pain. Currently, Sam was sitting on the couch staring at the floorboards. He wanted to go over to him and try to talk to him, but he was afraid of Sam freaking out again. It seemed a terrible thing to disturb him when he was so calm.

Then there was Harry. He looked exhausted, and considering he'd iced the Devil earlier that wasn't surprising. He'd asked Harry to go and rest, but Harry'd simply said it wasn't safe yet. They all knew why, too. Zachariah was expected to show up any minute now.

Dean snapped from his thoughts when he heard Harry come back from the garden, a few flowers in hand.

"I think we're passed the flowers and candy phase, don't you?" Dean's eyebrow quirked up a bit as he looked on curiously at his tiny lover.

"You don't strike me as the flower and candy sort, love." Harry quipped, as he transfigured a rock he'd brought with him into a long vase and stuck the flowers inside.

"Don't you think it's a bit late for trying to spruce the place up?" Dean asked incredulously.

"It's not for the cabin. It's for Sam." Harry shot Dean a glare as he moved slowly over to the silent figure of his brother.

"Hey Sam. I just wanted to leave these here with you. Is that alright? I know not everyone is into plants, but the garden outside has some of the most lovely flowers. They're so green and colorful. I thought maybe you'd like to look at some." Harry whispered quietly to Sam as he placed the vase down on the floor where Sam had been staring.

Harry began backing away, but froze when Sam suddenly reach out to the flowers, stroking the petals softly with his finger tips. When Sam didn't do anything but continue examining the flowers for a while, Harry stepped away from him and went to Dean.

"How did you do that?" Dean asked, jerking Harry's attention away from watching Sam.

"Do what?" Harry's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Get him to notice something. To do something other than just sit there, staring at nothing." Dean stared at Harry, a bit dazed at how he'd managed so easily to get a reaction from his brother, when he was too scared to even try.

"I just thought he'd like something other than brown floorboards to stare at." Harry shrugged, as if he hadn't just done something amazing to Dean.

"Thank you." Dean breathed and pulled Harry into his body, curling around him and hugging him fiercely in gratitude, affection, love.

Harry squeaked a bit at the unexpected response, but just hugged him back.

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Harry had been out in the garden when it'd happened, something Dean was immensely grateful for.

He was talking quietly with his double, trying not to punch his face in retribution for his earlier punch, when suddenly Zachariah was there. The man didn't look happy.

"What happened? What is going on?" Zachariah started lowly, then raised his voice.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean challenged, he would play it dumb, and hope like hell Zachariah didn't catch a clue about Harry.

"This is all wrong! You shouldn't be here! You should be back at the garden, and you should be dead!" Zachariah snapped, looking between the two Dean's.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you for years, and now you show up?!" Future Dean raged.

The three froze and looked over when they heard whimpering. Sam was trying to cram his body into the corner, away from the loud voices.

"Well, this is unexpected. Sam, I'm surprised to see you alive and we- well, not well exactly, but still alive!" Zachariah turned and addressed Sam, moving as if to approach him, when two sets of hands grabbed him from each side.

"You leave him alone, you dick." Dean growled.

"What he said." Future Dean added.

"Now boys, I'm not going to hurt him, as if I could do anymore damage than what Lucifer's already done to him. I just wanted to get a good look at him. It takes a special kind of vessel to house someone as powerful as Lucifer, after all." Zachariah replied, taking on a false look of concern.

"Don't talk about my brother that way! He's more than just a vessel!" Future Dean snapped.  
His vehement reaction startled Dean. Maybe there was hope for his future counterpart after all.

"Zap me back to my time you asshole." Dean tried to divert the subject away from Sam.

"Not until I know how this happened. Something's caused a change here, and I want to know what or whom is responsible." Zachariah shoved the hands off of him and turned to eye the twin males.

"Like I said, I got no clue." Dean snapped.

"Me neither." Dean wanted to gawk at his double for protecting Harry, as he hadn't said anything to his future counterpart about hiding Harry's presence from the angels, but he managed to stop himself.

Barely.

"You're lying. I wonder who could have you both so quick to protect them like you do your little brother. All in good time, though. If you won't tell me, I'm sure I'll find someone who will eventually." Zachariah perked up at the end, making Dean all the more wary of the angel.

"Whatever, just send me back." Dean growled in frustration.

"Oh I'll send you back Dean. I'll send you right back to where you were. In a time where I'll make sure this future never happens for you." Zachariah swore, making Dean's anger and fear flare up.

He clenched down on it, though, determined not to let Zachariah see how his words spooked him.

The world faded away when Zachariah pressed two fingertips to his forehead.

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When Harry entered the small cabin again, he'd already known his Dean had been sent back by the angel. He wasn't worried, he still had his tracker on Dean, allowing him to follow whenever he was ready.

He wasn't quite ready to leave yet, though. He still had a few more things to do before he could return to his lover.

"He's gone. Zachariah sent him back." Harry stopped and turned to Dean's double.

He looked just like his Dean, except older, more tired, colder. He wondered if there was anything that could help this Dean thaw part of the ice he held in his heart. Maybe there was a way to reverse some of the damage this world had done to the hard man.

"I know. I felt him leave, that's why I waited."

"Why is he trying to hide you from Zachariah?" Future Dean questioned.

"Castiel is the only angel who knows about me, when he saw me, he told Dean I was to be protected. He thinks I'm too powerful to be in the wrong hands, that demons and angels would try to recruit me to their side." Harry shrugged, not really believing the words he spoke.

"I guess that makes sense, considering you kicked Lucifer's ass back downstairs. Am I gonna have to be worried about him coming for Sam again?" He glanced over at the sleeping form of his brother quickly, while leaning against a table.

"Not once I create the protecting charm for Sam. I'll have to stay for a few more days, though. I'm too drained from exercising Lucifer to do any heavy spell work right now." Harry explained.

"A protection charm? Like one that guards from demonic possession?" Future Dean leaned forward in interest.

"Yes, somewhat, except this charm will contain my magic in and around it. Given who I'm trying to keep out, I'll need a lot of energy to put into the charm." Harry confirmed.

"Guess it's a good thing you're on our side." Future Dean replied, looking impressed.

"I'm on Dean's side." Harry responded, blushing a bit once he'd realized what he'd just said.

Future Dean smirked softly at the accidental admission.

"How'd you two meet anyways? You said something about waking up alone when you were with him in a another world? I assume you're talking about when that dick with wings put me in the monkey suit and had me sit on my ass doing paperwork?" Dean questioned.

"Before I met Dean, I was in a different reality, where I was born. There was a war there, and I died. When I died, I just showed up in that false reality where Dean was. He thought I was his fiancé, and he knew a lot about me. We just kind of... grew close. When he was sent back to his rightful place, I was suddenly alone. I met up with him again while chasing a werewolf, and we've been traveling together ever since." Harry moved to sit down in a chair.

"You were chasing a werewolf? Alone?" Future Dean asked incredulously.

"Of course, it was too dangerous to continue allowing it to roam." Harry was confused over the man's look of disbelief for a moment, until he remembered that this Dean didn't know what he was capable of physically.

His Dean had already seen him deal with various creatures and entities, magically and non-magically. This Dean had only seen him use his magic to fight. He likely thought Harry wasn't able to handle physical combat.

"Oh I get it, you think due to my size, I'm unable to take out a dangerous creature like a werewolf." Harry's eyes lit up with mischief.

"No offence, I just find it hard to envision someone as small as you holding off a pissed werewolf, let alone ganking one."

"Care to test me?" Harry leaned forward on his elbows, mischief clear on his face.

"What're you thinking?" Future Dean asked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.

"I owe you for knocking my man unconscious, and in return, you get to see me kicking your arse." Harry smirked, not quite believing how he was acting at the moment.

"Aren't you too tired?" Future Dean asked, looking Harry over skeptically.

"I think I have enough energy to kick you ass into the ground." Harry smirked.

He was never one to brag about his skills, but being in this future world felt freeing. Without Dean around to protect him, he could take a few risks here and there, as he knew were Dean there with him, he never would've allowed it. Not that he didn't enjoy having Dean take care of him, he always adored it when Dean watched out for him. He was too deprived in his childhood not to crave care and love from someone, and Dean was basically raised to take care of others, same as Harry, but there was a difference. For Dean, he grew up learning that he needed to protect his brother first, and then other people. For Harry, he grew up learning that he had to take care of his family, and then other people, and because he wanted to. Harry was hit, and deprived of affection, isolated for not doing his job right, and even starved.

So while Dean grew up learning the importance of why he needed to protect others and take care of his brother, Harry grew up being afraid of what would happen to him if he didn't take care of his relatives and protect the wizarding world.

"You're on." Future Dean's gruff voice pulled Harry from his musings.

Harry's eyes just lit up in excitement.

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Harry chuckled quietly to himself as he watched future Dean sulk on one side of the cabin, nursing his bruised pride. It wasn't everyday he had his ass handed to him by someone smaller than him, Harry supposed.

Harry had quite a few bruises on himself, as the man hadn't pulled any of his hits once he'd felt Harry's first hit, right to his jaw. Seeing the bruise only reminded Harry of his Dean's face, as it had looked pretty purple when he'd last seen it. He only hoped future Dean's bruise turned the same nice shade in recompense.

Looking over to Sam, his eyes saddened at seeing him doing nothing but staring out the window. Harry knew it would take a great deal of time and effort to get Sam back to any near form of normality, but he wished there was something he could do to jumpstart the process before he left.

Considering who Sam would be living with all alone in the future, Harry knew future Dean was too damaged at the moment to really help Sam out that much. Harry would leave the man alone for the rest of the night. He would have to think of something before he left that would help Sam do something other than just sit and stare all day.

Harry finally went and got some well deserved sleep.

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The next day Harry began doing some preparations for creating the protective charm for Sam. He seriously doubted that Sam would ever say yes to Lucifer again, given what he'd gone through, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Plus, he had doubts that future Dean wouldn't put a bullet in his own brother's head if he thought that he was a liability to the world.

He sighed in sadness at the thought as he did some small spell work to transfigure the materials for an ankle bracelet. It would be harder to spot and more difficult to take off in combat, even though Harry would be adding an invisibility spell to it. He was too paranoid not to do everything he could think of, especially since he wouldn't be able to watch out for Sam or Dean in the alternate future.

Hopefully his efforts would be enough to make a difference for the damaged brothers.

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It was later in the day when he approached Sam cautiously. Future Dean was out doing damage control with Castiel and the others he'd betrayed, and Harry figured it was the best time to try getting Sam to do something.

Holding a flower in his hand, he slowly moved to Sam and called him softly, not wishing to startle him.

"Sam. Hi there. I was out in the garden, and I found this flower. Isn't it pretty? I like the different shades of orange and red on its petals." Harry babbled softly at Sam, who was staring at the flower.

He slowly moved his hand to touch the flower. When he was petting the flower as he had the others the day before, Harry relaxed and just continued holding the flower for Sam to examine.

After a while, Harry zoned out a bit, content to stand there and just let Sam touch the flower's petals. He startled a bit when he felt fingers trying to take the flower from his hand.

"Oh, would you like it? Here, be careful, it's delicate." He gently eased the flower into Sam's hand.

He moved back a couple of steps and sat down in front of Sam, just watching him turn the flower in his hands softly. Sam stared at the flower, unblinking, as he examined it from all angles, turning it one way, then another. Eventually, Harry realized Sam was looking at him.

"What is it, Sam? Tired of looking at the flower? Well it is just one flower. There are many more plants and flowers in the garden. All sorts of pretty colors there. Would you like to see it?" Harry smiled kindly at Sam, as he stood up slowly and held out his hand.

Sam just stared at him, and while it was rather unnerving, Harry wouldn't be deterred and stayed where he was, holding out his hand.

It seemed like hours, his arm was starting to get uncomfortable from holding it out, when a hand much larger than his own took his. Harry smiled, internally celebrating the important victory, and led Sam outside to the garden.

Harry's garden was nothing elaborate, like the one Lucifer had been in. There were flowers in one area, vegetables and fruit in another, and herbs in the last section. Still holding Sam's hand, Harry led him over to his flowers.

"You can sit wherever you like, just be careful not to crush the plants." Harry softly instructed.

He took his own seat in front of some flowers and examined them, checking the plants health, even though he knew they were healthy. He supposed he was a bit paranoid the virus would hurt them somehow, even though he'd cleansed the land with his magic. He was rather overprotective himself.

Harry looked up when Sam sat down near him. He was looking at the plants, his eyes dancing over each one quickly, as if unsure of which one to watch first. Harry chuckled quietly, bringing Sam's attention to him.

"Take your time, they aren't going anywhere, and they adore attention. It'd be a shame to ignore one in favor of another." Harry soothed, smiling when Sam looked back to the flowers and stared at one, reaching out to touch it.

After he made sure Sam was thoroughly engrossed, Harry went to check on his herbs. They looked like they could use a bit of his magic to help them along, and he figured a small amount wouldn't hurt with the charm work he had to do the next day. Sitting down, he held his hands over the plants and let his magic flow slowly into them. He closed his eyes as he felt his magic drift into the plants, giving them a part of himself.

When he was done, he opened his eyes, only to find Sam standing on the other side of the herbs, looking down at Harry intensely.

"Got tired of watching the flowers?" Harry asked calmly, smiling up at Sam.

Sam smiled shyly back, and Harry considered that progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So next chapter is the last one. This idea started out meant to be about 10k words total, but ballooned into a bigger plot that could really just keep going. Given my main story is Secunda Fortuna, and I got really stuck on that one, I started this story to help keep myself motivated to write. It's worked to some extent, I've gotten some inspiration for SF and I feel like my writing has grown just a little more. Thanks for being so patient, as school has been draining basically all of my creativity for the projects I get. I also started a YouTube channel for gaming which has taken some of my time from being so involved with the fanfiction community. No, that doesn't mean I'm leaving it, just doing other things too. I still love me some good slash stories. :P
> 
> -Angelwarrior1


	12. Chapter 11

Harry and Sam spent the rest of the day in the garden, and eventually Harry ended up teaching Sam all about how to take care of the plants. Oddly, he hadn't considered leaving anyone in charge of taking care of them. He was sort of making them more independent, as not to burden anyone with the task, but Sam seemed to flourish under Harry's tutelage. He seemed to actually focus, rather than stare when Harry explained what was needed to ensure the plants stayed healthy. It was nice, and it would give Sam something to do when he left.

He hoped it would be enough.

11111111111111111

The next day Harry felt ready to create the charm for Sam. He gathered all of the items he would need, and went outside to do the spell. Future Dean followed, and the pair were surprised when Sam joined them as well.

"I'm not gonna have to make up some story to the others am I? This isn't gonna turn into some giant light show, right?" Future Dean asked warily as he watch Harry place everything.

"No. It shouldn't be that bright. I'm channeling my magic into the bracelet, so if anything, it'll be bright at first then get darker as my magic goes into the bracelet," Harry explained calmly.

"This isn't- This won't hurt you, will it?" Future Dean started, then pushed out.

"No, I'll just be tired afterward. I'm still a bit drained from getting rid of Lucifer, so I may pass out if I put too much energy into the bracelet, but there's no need to be alarmed. I'll just need sleep and food," Harry was surprised at the seeming concern future Dean had just displayed.

It gave Harry hope for the man. He closed his eyes and concentrated on drawing his magic together and then began reciting the words of Latin while waving his hands and channeling his magic. The process was slow, as he had to give a lot of magic to the bracelet. As more time passed, he felt himself begin to grow more and more tired, and he knew he was nearing the end of the spell. Eventually, he was done and he slowly stopped channeling his magic.

He felt weak and dizzy when he opened his eyes.

"You okay? You aren't looking so good." Harry swayed a bit as he nodded.

"Jus' tired," Harry mumbled, reaching over to pick up the bracelet.

"Uh huh, come on then. Time for you to get some sleep," Future Dean spoke and went to pull Harry up, practically dragging his dead weight back to the cabin.

Future Dean put Harry on the couch, and Harry waved Sam over when he saw him hovering a few steps behind future Dean.

"Would you come here Sam? I have something for you," Harry requested of Sam, patting the spot near him.

Future Dean backed away and let Sam go if he wanted to. It took a few moments, but eventually Sam moved to sit next to him. Harry smiled and held the bracelet up for Sam to see.

"This is for you, Sam. This bracelet is for your ankle, and it'll protect you from possession from Lucifer, demons and a number of other things. Once you put this on, it'll be invisible to everyone but you, and only you can take it off. Here," Harry explained gently and handed the bracelet over to Sam, who gingerly took it.

He stared at it, and it was obvious future Dean was losing his patience, as Harry heard his breath intake to speak. Harry shot him a glare that told the man to keep his mouth shut. Silence remained. When it was obvious Sam was a bit at a loss of what to do other than stare at the bracelet, Harry gently touched the hand holding the bracelet, causing Sam to jerk a bit and look at him. Harry felt a bit like he was looking at a startled baby deer, given Sam's large doe-like eyes looking at him.

"It's alright. Do you like it? I can turn it another color if you lik-" Harry started, but Sam surprised both men when he vigorously shook his head in the negative.

"Alright, you want help putting it on?" Harry asked instead.

Sam hesitated before nodding shyly, causing Harry to smile at him, and Sam handed him the bracelet. He shifted and brought up an ankle, and watched as Harry put the bracelet on.

"There. What do you think?" Harry looked at Sam to gauge his reaction.

Sam examined the bracelet in the same intense manner he did the flowers, touching and petting the bracelet gently. He finally looked up at Harry and nodded, smiling shyly.

"You're welcome, Sam." Harry smiled back.

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It was time for Harry to leave, and as much as he wanted to be with his Dean again, part of him ached at leaving these two Winchesters by themselves. He'd grown rather attached to Sam, and even future Dean was starting to grow on him.

Unfortunately for the future brothers, he was in love with Dean, a different Dean, in another time and world, and he needed to get back to him. The night before, he'd created one more bracelet, this one for Dean. It wasn't as powerful as Sam's, due to his exhaustion, but it would help protect the hard man.

Approaching Sam first, he said his goodbyes.

"You'll be alright Sam, you're free of Lucifer now. Just concentrate on getting better, and enjoy life," Harry encouraged his sad looking friend.

Sam nodded, his eyes practically begging Harry not to leave, which tugged at Harry's heart something fierce. The man seemed to hesitate for a bit, and Harry knew to wait him out. Harry was surprised to find himself wrapped into a huge body, as Sam hugged him tightly. It was so sudden and unexpected that Harry flinched slightly, old instincts flaring. Sam noticed and let him go immediately, making Harry feel terrible.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm just not used to human contact much I'm afraid. You caught me off guard. Here, let's try that again, hmm?" Harry soothed the downtrodden man, who peeked up through his hair to look at Harry in uncertainty.

Harry smiled encouragingly and Sam eventually relaxed, letting Harry initiate a hug and hugging him back more gently.

"You're my friend Sam, no matter where or when I am. Remember that," Harry whispered in Sam's ear, causing Sam to squeeze Harry tighter in response.

After a while of indulging in the warm affection of Sam Winchester, Harry let Sam go, and rose from the couch.

Future Dean was watching him, had been a lot over the few days he'd been there. He went over to future Dean to say goodbye.

"Going back, huh?" Future Dean asked, not really needing to ask, but asking anyways.

"Yes," Harry simply replied.

"Why? It's safer here. Lucifer is gone, thanks to you, and the Croats may not be fun, but they aren't as bad as angels and demons running around," Future Dean responded.

"Dean is there. My Dean," Harry stated, like that explained everything.

And it did.

"I'm Dean too, you know. I could be yours." Harry's eyes widened at that statement.

"I- I know you're Dean," Harry stuttered in shock.

"Do you, 'cause I've felt like an imposter over the passed few days. That other Dean, he's me, just younger. He's the same as I am," Fut- no, Dean insisted.

He was right, he was Dean, and while they weren't exactly the same, many parts of them were.

"That's true, you and he are the same man, but your experiences have made you slightly different than him. You're colder, more brutal, and harsh. My Dean still values human life, he's still able to express love and affection. You have trouble showing care to your own brother, I haven't seen you approach him once. I don't know what happened to make you close yourself away so fully, maybe it was losing Sam, or maybe it was something else, but I'd be fighting for your heart everyday. I'm too tired for that, and I'm too in love with the Dean I've already met to insult you by trying to give you the same. " Harry touched Dean's chest softly as he explained.

Dean sighed, his shoulders sagging.

"If only I'd met you first, maybe I wouldn't be this fucked up. I know there's shit wrong with me. I know. It's all I know now. It's how I've survived. I've been struggling so long to just stay alive. To just end things. I went to face Lucifer expecting to die, you know? I would have too, if you hadn't shown up. I've been fighting for years, and you come in and changed things, so fucking easily. You beat Lucifer. You freed Sam. I couldn't, but you did, you didn't even seem to struggle or anything. This world is already so much better, and you've only been here for a few days. What've I done in comparison?" Dean confessed somberly.

"You have changed things Dean. You run this camp. You keep these people alive. You keep hope alive. Everyday you breath is a blessing, because it's a new day for hope. It's a new possibility for change. Considering how bad things have gone for the world, I think it's very admirable how long you've survived, and kept others alive," Harry insisted, not liking the broken look on the man.

"I thought you said I was cold?" Dean uttered darkly.

"You are, but I've seen enough from you to have hope for you yet, Dean Winchester," Harry whispered quietly, taking Dean's hand and squeezing it gently.

Dean looked up and caught Harry's eyes in an intense gaze, making him freeze. Then he was being kissed hungrily, as if Dean were a starving man. He was yanked into Dean's body, slamming into his front, as the man forced his way into his mouth. Harry moaned in surprise and startling sudden arousal.

He shouldn't have been surprised, really. It was still Dean, after all, and Harry was immensely attracted to Dean Winchester. Apparently, it didn't seem to matter which one. His Dean would likely be jealous, of course, and Harry knew the man would find out. Harry wasn't the best at lying to his loved ones. Hopefully he wouldn't be too angry, and if he took the time to enjoy the kiss, it wasn't hurting anything, right?

Harry took Dean by surprise and started participating in the kiss, teasing his tongue shyly with his own. Dean growled in approval and gripped Harry's hair, guiding his head and angling it so he could deepen the kiss.

As much as Harry was enjoying the kiss, guilt welled in him, and it wasn't for his Dean. It was for this future Dean. He shouldn't be encouraging the man, as he would be leaving. Leaving right after the kiss actually. Grabbing Dean's hair, he pulled his head away from his. They both panted as they leaned their foreheads together.

"My past self is one lucky bastard," Dean gruffed out, panting.

"I'm the lucky one," Harry whispered, and dug the charm out from his pocket.

"What's that?" Dean looked down at the bracelet.

"It's your protection charm," Harry answered, taking one of Dean's hands and putting the charm on it.

"I thought you were too drained?" Dean wondered as he rotated his wrist, examining the bracelet.

"That one isn't as strong as Sam's, so it didn't take as much magic to create." Harry smiled softly up at Dean.

"Thank you." Dean's thumbed stroked at one corner of Harry's smile.

"You're welcome, Dean." Harry cupped Dean's hand to his face and closed his eyes momentarily, enjoying the moment briefly before opening his eyes and stepping away from the man.

"Stay strong Dean, and look after your brother. For me, if no one else," Harry urged, as he gathered his magic for the return trip.

"I will, Harry. Thank you. For everything," Dean spoke solemnly, trying not to let his sadness show.

Harry smiled one last time at the alternate future versions of the Winchesters, and followed the tracker to his Dean Winchester.

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When Harry reached Dean, he hadn't picked the best timing. He landed on top of Sam Winchester in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean swerved, as he yelped in surprise. Sam yelled and started trying to fight off Harry, thinking they were being attacked. Harry was just trying to calm everyone down.

Dean pulled the Impala over and looked at Harry as Sam was still trying to throw him off.

"Harry!" Dean yanked Harry off of Sam and crushed him onto his lap in an all consuming hug.

"Hey Dean," Harry replied, though it was muffled by Dean's chest.

"How'd he get here?" They heard Sam ask in confusion.

"Where the hell have you been?! I've waited for you at the motel for two days before I finally gave up. I thought... I thought you were stuck there," Dean ended quietly.

"I'm sorry. I thought you would've been there a little longer. I stayed to make a protection charm for Sam, and help him out a little," Harry explained, rubbing Dean's chest in apology, while soothing him at the same time.

"You made a protection charm? To protect against Lucifer, right?" Dean pulled back to look at Harry in surprise.

"Yes, though he really wouldn't need it unless someone were trying to trick him into saying yes. Anyhow, regardless of him saying yes, it would just repel Lucifer and send him back from where he came."

"Wait. You're saying if I went up to Lucifer, wearing that charm of yours, and said yes, it would just force him from my body and push him back into his cage?"

"Um, well, essentially, yes. As long as the energy repelling Lucifer's is greater than his it would fill your body, forcing him from you."

"Uh uh, don't even think about it Sam. Let's leave the crazy ideas as a last resort, besides, Harry's looking too tired to be doing anymore major mojo." Dean took Harry's chin and examined his face, as if confirming his words.

"How'd you-?" Harry began, cut off by Dean's chuckle.

"Your eyes aren't as lively. They never lie to me." Dean winked, causing Harry to scoff and Sam to grin in amusement as he watched the pair.

"So, where are we going?" Harry asked, as he wiggled off of Dean's lap.

He smirked mildly when he heard Dean growl softly at him.

"Hunt a few states over. Figured we'd ease Sammy back into things," Dean spoke as he waited for Harry to get situated in the back seat before pulling back onto the road.

"I told you Dean, I'm don't need to be handled with kid gloves," Sam said in frustration.

"This is for the both of us man..." Harry listened to the brothers attempting to deal with the recent rift between them, and smiled gently.

It wasn't perfect, but no time in life ever really was. He'd gone to his death firmly believing he would be moving on to be with his loved ones. Instead, he'd found himself in a different world and falling in love with an extraordinary man. He didn't know Sam very well yet, but if the other Sam was any indication, he had a feeling they'd be the best of friends. Castiel was quickly becoming a good friend, as well. It wasn't a perfect traditional family, but Harry thought it would be perfect for him, and that was all that really mattered.

Harry smiled as he looked out the window of the Impala, listening to the voice of Brian Johnson, screeching about being back in black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is, the end. There may or may not be an indirect sequel involving future Dean and Sam, cause I really felt for the pair at the end of it all. They could really use a Harry, don't 'ya think? :P
> 
> If any of you fellow authors wish to write spin offs involving this universe, I encourage it! Just be sure to give credit for this story so readers know what the heck is going on in your stories. :D
> 
> Thanks for reading, reviewing, and being awesome. :D
> 
> -Angelwarrior1

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Destinies. Fate: a Bitch? or a Matchmaker?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058124) by [ArizonaDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArizonaDream/pseuds/ArizonaDream)




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